Foster Girl
by Wasting words
Summary: It's back. Same story, same everything. Just a few revisions. After being placed in yet another foster home, Sabree Thomas finds herself in the company of the infamous Z-Boys. A new family isn't the only thing Miss Thomas finds in Venice.
1. My name is Sabree

Disclaimer; I own nothing. Except Sabree, and the whole foster home. I don't know a lot about skateboarding, I'm just a fan of Lords of Dogtown. If you don't like my story, don't read it. Don't comment me to bitch about how bad a writer I am. I don't care. Mmkay?

"Mr. Jones? This is Paula Walker from the foster home. It looks like we've found you and your wife a foster child. Mhm, yes. We'll bring her by as soon as possible."

Click. I watch as Paula hangs up the phone and then makes her way over to me. Bet she's relieved to get rid of me. . .again.

"Well, Ms. Thomas, it looks like we've found you yet another a foster home. Start packing, Sean will be here soon to take you to meet the Jones' family. So, do hurry.

I look up at her. Did I care? Not really. She knows I don't care. She knew I never cared, so why did she even bother telling me? She passes me smile. I simply roll my eyes and blow her off, as per my usual routine.

I think I'm too harsh on Paula sometimes. Most of the time, it does seem like she really cares about my well-being. But, then again, she _does_ own a foster home. . .

"C'mon, ya little punk, I ain't got all day!" Sean swears loudly at me and I take my sweet ass time to wander over to the car. It's when he's in a pissy mood like this that makes me appreciate being taken away from my drunk of a father, and his slut of a girlfriend. "And this time, don't do anything to fuck it up. Frankly, I'm tired of having to do this over and over again, six fucking times a month. So, just stop doing your drugs and keep your skinny ass out of trouble."

I can't say I blame Sean for the way he acts towards me. I even get sick of the way I act sometimes, so that's saying something. But, I certainly don't go in and out of foster care six times a month! Three times at the most, but it's not my fault the families they send me to don't give a rats ass about me.

He pops the trunk. I toss my bags, skateboard into the back, hop into the passengers seat, and settle in for the ride.

About 20 minutes later, we arrive at a house. An actual house. Not an apartment, but instead a large estate. 'Great.' I think, rolling my eyes. This wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Sean pulls my stuff out of the trunk of the car, then yanks me out. He puts on his 'happy' face as he escorts me to the cloud white front door of the house and knocks on the door.

A middle aged couple answers the door. The male looks in his late 40's, with curly brown hair, graying in some areas. The woman is maybe in her mid 30's, with bleach blonde hair. It has to be dye. I know this because Karen, my dad's girlfriend, buys the exact same shit. They smile at me, and a boy around my age sneaks up behind them, quietly trying to sneak a peek into what's going on.

"You must be from the foster home. Please, do come in." The woman says with a large, flashy smile while opening the door to us. I look at Sean. I can tell his more than thrilled to come in. 

I know Sean. And all Sean wants to do is leave me here so he'll never have to put up with any of my shit again.

"Well, as you know, my name is Mia and this is my husband, Larry," she says to me, but then she points to her teenage son, "And, this is my son, Tyler. I'm sorry, dear, it seems Mrs. Walker never told me your name?" she asks me, and brushes a strand of my platinum blonde hair out of my face, so her green eyes come in contact with my steel gray ones.

I sigh, looking at Sean in a pleading manner. 'Please, don't tell me I have to stay _here_.' I think, but Sean just gives me a smirk and silently laughs at me like the jackass he is. I look around one more time. "Sabree."

"Beg pardon?" Mia asks.

I clear my throat, "Sabree. My name is Sabree."

She nods, and smiles at me. "Well, Sabree, I think that you'll find it very comfortable at our house. Tyler, be a dear and show her to her room."

Tyler rolls his eyes, and grabs my stuff, "C'mon." he mutters.

I shrug, and follow. He opens the door to my room. It's huge. A queen sized bed, a huge window, and a fairly sized closet.

"Shit." I mutter, plopping down on the bed to take it all in. This is maybe five times the size of my room when I lived with my dad. I look over at Tyler, who takes a seat on the edge of my bed.

"So, foster girl," he begins, watching me as I unpack my stuff, "why _are _you a foster girl?"

I stop, and look at him inquisitively, "Didn't your parents' fill you on this?" I ask. Tyler shakes his head, and a few strands of chestnut colored locks fall in the way of his piercing green eyes, defiantly inherited from his mother.

"Nah, they kept me in the dark about this whole thing."

I shrug, setting down a pair of messily folded pants. "They took me away 'cause my old man's a drunk and he's abusive."

An awkward silence filled the room, and Tyler takes a sudden interest in the ground. He looked like he had regret asking. He changes the subject after he gets a glance at my board, "You skate?"

"I might."

He smirks, and rolls his eyes, "Come with me. You new to Dogtown?

I'm baffled. Dogtown? I'm assuming he means Venice, at least the ghetto, where we live now. I nod instead of asking questions.

"Well, Mom and Dad are gunna make me show you around eventually, so I'll get it over with now. C'mon, foster girl."

"Foster girl? Cute, but I prefer Sabree." I bark, pulling an aged black hoodie over my head. I've had this thing for so long, I think that if I washed it, it might very well dissinagrate in the washing machine.

"Whatever, just grab your board and let's go."

"Dude, Ty, who's the chick?" I glance over at a Mexican boy with frizzy gold hair who proposed the question.

"Member how I told you 'bout that foster kid my parents were taking' in?" he said, forcing me into a spin, as if to show me off, like I was some grand prize for a skateboard competition or something. Then he gives me a shove forward, "Foster girl herself. Foster girl, this is Tony. Tony, this is foster girl."

He has listening issues, doesn't he? I think.

"Sabree, my name is Sabree. Not foster girl."

"F-foster?" The youngest boy of the group asks, his large brown eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Foster, as in the place they took her out of wasn't good enough for her." The third boy snorted, picking something out of his teeth. "Bet she can't skate for shit."

The final, and tallest, of the boys rolls his eyes, and hooks a strand of long, blonde hair behind his ear, "Nice, Jay. Real nice. I'm Stacy. That jackass over there is Jay, and that's Sid." He says, and extends his hand out for a friendly hand shake.

I look at his hand, then back up at him. He seems decent enough. I forgo my less than pleasant persona, and put on a sincere smile, before taking this Stacy boy's hand. "Sabree," I state, then move over to Jay, getting as close to his face as humanly possible, "And I could trash your blonde ass any day."

Jay scoffed, "Yeah, I'd like to see that."

Again, I see Stacy roll his eyes. A long, awkward pause lingers in the air. Sid's first to break the silence, "So, why did they put you in foster care in the first place?" He asks, sheepishly. Almost as if I'd flip shit on him right then and there.

I shrug, "Well, my dad likes to drink, smoke pot and beat the shit out of me on almost a daily basis." I say, nonchalantly. 

They all look stunned. Stunned because I'm just. . .straight foreword about it. 

"Hey, ya little grommets, its ten bucks to browse." I look back, and see a middle aged man, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, a vodka bottle wrapped in his left hand, and sunglasses dangling in the other.

"Yo, Skipper, this is Sabree. The foster kid my moms been yappin' about." Tyler says, forcing me around yet again.

"Ahoy there, Sabree." He slurs, and his gaze lands on my board. He takes a long drag of his cigarette, "So you skate, huh?"

I nod and tap my skateboard with my fingernails, "Look's like it."

"Sabree, come on, we gotta bail. Mom gets tweaked if we're late for dinner."


	2. You ate it pretty hard

**Authors Note: Otay, in regards to my first review, I'd like to say that everything is as it was in the first version. Just typos we're fixed and a few parts where re-worded to flow better. Other than that, nothing has changed. Not the characters, plots, chapters, couples, etc. Everything is the same. No unexpected plot changes here. :**

"Sabree? Sabree, honey, wake up."

I groan at the sound of the all too perky voice echoing throughout my room. It was Mia. I wasn't sure about the time, but it was defiantly too early for her to be so. . . perky. You'd think I'd be used to her perkiness after two weeks. Well, think again.

I hear the blinds open. My eyes peek open a bit, but the harsh rays of the California sun flood into them, and they snap back shut. "Fuck. What time is it?"

"Watch your language, young lady, and its' 9:30. Get up and dressed, Josephine will be in shortly to watch your bedding."

"Josephine?" I ask. I was never introduced to a Josephine.

"Our maid. She was visiting some family back in Mexico when you came. She's quiet lovely. Anywho, hop to it, dearest, Josephine will be done with breakfast any minute now." With that, I watch the tiny blonde woman leave my room, closing my door quietly on her way out. I crash back on my bed to make light conversation with the ceiling for a minute or two, before I roll myself out of bed.

I yawn and stretch before walking to my dresser to pull out an outfit for today. A pair of frayed jeans and a simple black tank top. On top of that, I throw on my hoodie. I've grown quite accustom to it, even in the hottest of California weather.

I throw my hair into a quick, and I do mean quick, sloppily pieced bun, throw on my Converse, and head down stairs. Immediately, I feel 8 pairs of eyes on me all at once. 6 of those eyes felt hauntingly comforting to me, but the last pair was new.

Mia finishes up her eggs as quickly as a lady like herself could, and sets her fork down, "Oh, honey, you're not wearing _that _are you? It looks as if you may need a whole new wardrobe. Don't worry. I'll take you shopping tonight. Oh, yes, Josephine, this is Sabree, the child we're taking in. Sabree, this is our maid, Josephine."

Josephine and I exchange questionable glances. No 'Hi, nice to meet you', or anything. That was okay with me. Tyler slams his glass down to signify he's finished. That caused all the unwanted attention to shift from me to him.

"Um, I'm going to go show Sabree around town some more." He said, slicking back his silky chestnut hair with his hand. It stays put for a few seconds but falls back to curtain his eyes again.

Larry nods, "Alright, son. Just be back before dinner, and stay away from any trouble, ya hear, boy?"

"Gotcha, Pop. C'mon foster girl, let's go."

Again, the urge to punch him comes flooding back, as I hiss out my name once more. I'm aware that I'm a foster kid, and that's all fine and dandy, but I don't need to be reminded of it every day.

"Tyler! Foster girl! It's 'bout time your dirty asses got here!" Tony laughed, giving Tyler an almost playful shove. I roll my eyes, and allow a sigh to pass through my lips as Tyler and Tony get into a small, yet friendly, brawl.

We're at a pool. 

Apparently Tony had a little routine. He'd go off, do whatever with these girls and get the keys to their house as a thank you.

I see Stacy approach, "Nice, T.A. She has a name, and I'm sure she'd like to be called by it." He then turns to me, smiling pleasantly, as Stacy Peralta does. "Hey, Sabree. "

"Thank you! Finally, someone with a little common sense." I rejoice, smiling triumphantly. I could get used to Stacy. The last to join the group are Sid, and Jay. Ugh. I hate him already.

Sid greets me with a smile. Sid seems to be the youngest of the group. He just has this innocent air about him. Hell, it's just so damn cute! He tries so hard to fit in but the boys don't mind. In fact, they look after him. Even Jay. Obnoxious, loud, careless, stupid, rude Jay Adams, treats Sid like his own child.

Jay, of course, doesn't greet me at all. Instead he goes straight to challenging me. "You said you could trash my ass," he spits, "Prove it." He says and gives me a typical Jay look.

I make eye contact with him, accepting his challenge. Was Jay Adams supposed to intimidate me? Was I supposed to realize my place as a woman and let him go on with his egotistical ways? I think not. He's got another thing coming to him if that's what he thinks.

"Haha, hey Jay boy, Sabree seems serious about this. Try not and get your ass kicked!" T.A laughed his trademark 'ha ha' laugh.

Jay snorts, "Fuck you, Alva. The only one getting her ass kicked around her is Foster girl." He says, then hops out of the pool. He keeps glancing back at me, with a smirk painted on that impish face of his as he gets ready to drop in. And up he does, pulling out every trick he knows with in five seconds.

He comes down, a smirk still stuck on that overly cocky face of his. Stacy, T.A, Tyler and Sid all applaud him. My turn.

Instead of using Jay's tactics and plunging straight into my bag of tricks, I skate around the pool a few times to build up my speed. Into the air I go. I could land this trick easily, but there's a feeling nagging at me. 

I go back in time to hear my parents fighting. My dad's drunken yelling, my moms crying and screaming. Out of all the times to flashback, why now? It frightens me for some reason and I bail out.

I land with a loud thud, my skateboard not far behind me. Why couldn't I have landed that trick? I lay there for a moment, contemplating my next movement. Do I get up and let Jay brag about how he beat me, or just let him come to me? The left side of my body, the side I landed on, burns like hell. 

Ow, my body screams as I roll over to my good side.

"Dude, is she okay?" I hear Stacy speak up and the foursome comes rushing to my side, as if I had died or something.

"Sabree?" Tyler asks, and runs to face me. "Dude, Sabree, you okay? You bailed at the last second. You ate it pretty hard."

"Thanks Ty, but I don't need a play by play. I know what happened, I was there." I snap, and sit up, watching as Stacy kneels down beside me. I'm a bit confused by his actions, but force a smile nonetheless. "Um, hi?" I say and Stacy's eyes meet mine.

"You took a pretty nasty spill, there has to be some form of an injury. Are you sure your okay?" He says and I roll my eyes. Stacy Peralta, a nurse? Hm, odd. Yet, I'm grateful for his concern. I guess that's just the kind of guy Stacy is. I shrug.

I pull up my shirt and my hoodie to look at the raw, torn flesh decorating my hip bone. A little blood here and there, but I'm used to seeing blood come from my body. As well as the whole torn flesh. Beatings from Dad always leave a lasting impression. I laugh a little bit, "Fuck, it stings."

Stacy laughs a bit himself and stands up. He offers a hand to help me up. I shake my head, but I take it. I'll admit, I wasn't used to people fussing over me like this. Or at least treating me like a decent person instead of some messed up foster girl.

Jay struts up to me, again giving me that classic 'I'm Jay, and I'm better than you' attitude. "Nice job of trashing me," he snorts, "told you guys she couldn't skate for shit."

I roll my eyes, and open my mouth, ready to start an insult war he's been asking for since the minute I met him.

"Cops. Shit dude, let's bail." Tony yells, then hauls ass out of the pool, Sid and Jay following right behind him.

"Finally." I whisper to myself. It's been ages since I've been chased by pigs. I've missed that rush. Without another minute to spare, I grab my bored, and hop the fence, the most obvious way out. I notice I'm alone and I shake my head.

I hear sirens approach, and I dive into the nearest bush then begin to rearrange the branches and leaves so I can properly see Stacy, Jay, Tony, Sid, and Tyler race to a safe spot. I laugh silently. Poor boys.

I sigh and plop down on my bed. Shopping with Mia is exhausting. I return home with about six new outfits. Two of which looking like school girl outfits. I hate all the clothes Mia picked out for me. Outfits for a 'proper young lady' as she puts it. I don't care about being proper, why doesn't she understand that?

"Miss Sabree? It's time for dinner." Josephine peeks her head into my room to tell me. I nod and stuff the shopping bags under my bed, where they will hopefully never see the light of day again, then head downstairs.

"So Sabree," Larry says, looking at me, "how do you like Santa Monica so far? What did you and Tyler do today?"

I shrug, picking at my food. "It's okay. I like it better than the foster home, at least. Tyler and I just went to the beach, nothing too special."

Mia nods, cheerfully. Her normally happy expression turns somewhat serious, "As long as you weren't out with those friends of the Columbino's son. I don't like them, and I would prefer that you and Tyler didn't run with that crowd. Especially, that Alva boy. Always throwing those wild parties while his fathers away, with drinking and smoking. That's just not the right way for kids to live, with abusive parents, no housekeeper and such."

I look up at Mia, quite offended. I finish chewing my food and glare in her direction, "You make it seem like they have a choice to live that way. It's hard for their parents to keep a job, and you don't know their situation." I bark. Was she serious? Talking that way when I'm right here. She knows that I come from the same place.

She seems taken aback, and her jaw drops, as she searches for an explanation. "S-Sabree, honey, I had no idea. I-I'm sorry."

I roll my eyes, "I'm full. I'm going to bed for the night." I stand up, and run off to bed.

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	3. I was your age, too

**Tyler's POV**

It's been almost two and a half months since my parents took Sabree in. I'll admit the kid has grown on me and everyone else. Everyone except Jay, that is. A normal person would have been used to Jay's attitude far by now, but not Sabree. Oh, no. Even after two months, they're still at each others throats. I can't say I blame Sabree though. Jay can be an ass at times. If they could have a conversation without insulting each other, they would be best friends. I'd have to say that Sabree is defiantly closest to Tony by now. They come from the same background, I suppose. Tony's dad is abusive, as well, just not like Sabree's.

She seems to like it here, despite the occasional squabble between her and my mother. Over clothes, they way she talks, how she lives, stuff like that. Their last major fight was about two weeks ago, but they're on speaking terms again. I think that Sabree is the one that refuses to talk first, but you never know with my mom.

"Hey, Ty, where is everyone?" I look up at the sound of Sabree's voice. She looks...different somehow. Probably because she just got out of the shower. Her platinum blonde hair was a shade darker now, tumbling past her shoulders in soft waves as if often did when it was wet, curling slightly at the ends. A few strands fell in the way of her gray eyes. They were extremely haunting at times, I've decided. They match well with her tough personality. Little by little, I've seen her metal walls deteriorate. I've seen her transform into a happier person. I've seen sides of her that no one else has seen. I've seen her cry. Her, Sabree Ann Thomas. She's confessed things to me that know one else has heard. Her plans for the future, her entire history, as it would seem. I guess that's part of living in the same house as her.

I shrug, watching as she yanks on the strings of _my _basketball shorts. "Parents are out for the weekend and you must have ran out of my mothers cutesy outfits, other wise, you wouldn't be wearing my shorts."

She gives me one of her looks and groans at the mention of my mothers shopping trips with her. "Ugh. The clothes she buys me, I would like to burn. They just aren't me. You're mother has a hard time taking 'no' for an answer, doesn't she?"

I laugh, "Yeah, yeah she does. Just keep fighting with her, she'll give in eventually."

"Well, since your parents are out for the weekend, I'm gunna go have some fun." She says and runs out the front door. Sabree's defintion of 'fun'usually means trouble. I'll admit-- I am a pretty good boy. I run from cops, but I don't smoke or drink or anything. According to Tony, that makes me just as straight edge as Stacy, which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

A few hours later I have Jay, Stacy, Tony and Sid in my front room. God only knows what monstrosities would occur if my mom actually knew I had the kids she despised hanging out in my front room. I seriously don't know what her deal is.

"Seriously, Sid, just drain it. You're parents will never know!" Jay cries, yet again trying to persuade Sid to drain his parents' pool while they're out on official "business" trips, with my parents. My parents and Sid's parents are friend, but it's more of a snobby, rich type relationship. My parents are aware that Sid is friends with Stacy, Jay, and Tony. Again, that whole disliking the lack of money thing comes into play.

I laugh and wave my hand in Jay's face, "Dude, the last time I checked, Sid isn't the only one with a pool."

Tony looks up at me and gets a mischievous smirk on his face, "Haha, that's right! Tyler's a little rich boy, too." He comes up to me and sets his arm around my shoulders. But in a guy-ish way, not a gay, 'I'm hitting on you way'. Not that I have anything against gays.

"So, Ty, when are we gunna have a gnarly pool session at your place?"

"Um, how about never?" I say, peeling his arm off my shoulders.

Tony looks disappointed, "Then why bring the idea up if you're just going to crush my dreams that way?"

I shake my head, and mutter the words 'drama queen'. I hear the clicking of the door and jump up with a scared look on my face. My parents? No, they can't be home. It's too early for their "business" trip to be over. "Shit. Oh, I'm so fucked. Uh..." I stand there like an idiot and stutter, looking around. The door flings open and I know that minute I'm a dead man standing. My mind races for a reasonable excuse.

Sabree swaggers in and my jaw drops. I swear, it could have easily torn away from my face and hit the floor. I shake my head. She smells very strongly of ocean water and pot. I examine her eyes. I've become quite the expert at knowing if my friends were stoned or not. She didn't look like she was, but I knew she had been smoking. She's coming down, maybe?

"Sabree? Have you been smoking?" I ask just to clarify things.

She nods, grins, then puts her face right into mine, and blows straight in my face. I wince as the smell of pot floods my nostrils. That answers my question. "You snuck out, so you could smoke weed?"

She draws away from me to look at me. "Tyler, do you know how long I've been in that foster home?"

I shake my head. Where was she going with this?

"Three years. That's three years I've had to go without a joint. I think I much more than deserve to smoke."

Three years? A girl her age shouldn't even be smoking. Oh, God. I sound like my mother. "Um, you know that if you get caught smoking, they'll send you back right?"

"Yeah, I know. That's why I have no intention of getting caught. You just gotta know how to play your cards, Ty."

By now, the whole crowd forms around me. Jay's holding back laughter, Stacy, I'm sure, is thinking the same thing I am, Sid is laughing his ass off, and T.A has this stupid grin on his face. He pushes through us and slings his arm casually around Sabree's shoulders, and lets their heads slowly and gently collide.

"So, Sabree, I'm having this party Wednesday night. And, I don't know what you've heard about my parties, but. . . Anyways, even before then, if you ever wanna just hang out and, you know, 'talk' I'm here for ya, okay?" He says, slyly, putting the classic Alva charm on her. It obviously doesn't work, because a laugh only rises from Sabree, where as other girls would have melted like butter at that very moment.

**Sabree's POV.**

I can't believe it. Tony Alva, the one Z-boy I've grown the closest too, was standing here, arm draped around my shoulders, hitting on me. This is just ridiculous. In a funny way, of course.

I bite my lower lip, making eye contact with him. This must be what his girlfriend keeps yapping about. "Tony…" I say softly. He actually believes that I'm falling for his act. I fake the most innocent smile I can, but then push him away gently. He looks stunned. Rejection is obviously something new to this kid.

Everyone looks so stunned at the little stunt I just pulled. Jay, being the ignorant asshole he is, burst out in laughter, and soon Stacy and Sid erupt, joining in with Jay.

I hear a knock at the door, and catch Tyler going to it out of the corner of my eye. "Shit. Hide you guys." I command, and push them all into a spacious, empty room. I really have no idea what it's for, maybe its' just an extra room. 'Okay, quick Sabree, think…' I think to myself. If there was one thing I was good at in life, it was avoiding trouble.

"Um, I'm Paula Walker from the Foster Home. Can I speak to Sabree?"

"Uh..sure. Hey, Sabe?" Tyler taps me on the shoulder. "Some lady from foster care is here to see you."

I moan in displeasure, 'What could she possibly want?' I stalk out of the boys' hiding place, only to see Paula standing in the door way.

Her chocolate colored hair, streaked with honey blonde, is twisted up into a bun, and she has her gray suit on. She's too attached to that suit, I decide.

We talk for a bit, she questions me about the past two months, I answer flatly.

She smiles at me, "Well, a quick check up is all I came by for. It sounds like we might have found a place for you at last." She says, in her 'perky' voice and ruffles my hair.

I put on a cheesy smile and watch Paula leave. After she's out of plain sight, I slam the door shut. "Dude that was fuckin' awesome."

The boys emerge from the kitchen, and stare at me blankly.

"I am half way fuckin' baked, and she didn't even notice. Shit like that doesn't slip past Paula. She didn't even smell the pot on me."

"Maybe its' because the ocean scent is just a bit more over powering than the pot smell," Tyler suggests, "What _were _you doing at the beach, anyways? Not an ideal place to get stoned."

This is the part I've been waiting to explain, "Surfing, of course. I must say, surfing stoned works a hell of a lot better than surfing drunk."

Stacy shakes his head. He looks, disappointed, almost. Like he's never seen his friends stoned. Kathy wasn't like me, neither was Blanca, so maybe this was new to him? "You don't even have a surfboard. Who were you with?"

"Fuck...what's his name? Red Dog, there we go. He was so shit faced, it was great."

"Alright, Tyler. Your little friends gotta go. There's only so much cleaner in this house that will disguise the smell. You know how your mother gets." I jumped, startled at the sound of Josephine's voice. I froze. How much of my conversation did she actually hear? Would she tell Larry or Mia?

"You heard the lady, out. Thanks for lettin' them over, Joey."

Joey? Josephine nods, shooing them out.

"So, um, Joey.." the name felt odd coming off my lips, "how much of that did you actually hear?"

"The whole thing." Ouch. That hurt.

"Thought so." My hand flies to the back of my head, tangling itself within my ocean damp, now dirty blonde locks.

"But, you're secrets safe with me, chicka. I was your age once, too, ya know." A smile tugs at her lips, as she pulls out a cigarette. "I won't tell if you won't." she chuckles, lights it, and takes a long drag. "Now, off to bed, you too. Stay in your room for the night, Sabree. I know your type." She winks at me, taking another drag.

I laugh, then follow after Tyler up the stairs.

I could get used to this.

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	4. You might as well have!

**Sabree's POV.**

Shopping. Again. Mia never seems to get tired of dragging me on these shopping trips, forcing me into tiny cubical dressing rooms, handing me outfit after outfit. I really need to have a talk with her. I sigh and strip myself of the hideous outfit she's picked out for me this time. A floor length white skirt and an aqua blue tank top, paired with a white shrug to go over it. I look at the skirt and shudder. I loathe skirts.

"Sabree," she says, then knocks on the dressing room door.

I crack it open, assuming she has more horrendous outfits picked out for me. I expect another skirt, or some fancy dress that I'll never wear. Instead, she shoves a pair of designer jeans, a white undershirt, and a black tee depicting Led Zeppelin into my hand, "Um. Wow, thanks." I really don't know how to react to the outfit. She never picks out stuff I like.

I sit there for a moment, trying to figure out if this was the same Mia that took me from the foster home six months ago. She must get the wrong impression of my silence, "You do like that band, don't you? If not, than I can go exchange it for a different one."

"Oh, no. I'm a huge fan of Zeppelin. It's just, I wasn't expecting this."

"Well, I've realized that the clothes I've been picking out for you just don't fit your personality. So, I'm going with this approach. Well, how does it look?"

I come out, Mia claps her hands together. "I must admit, that does look good on you, Sabree, doll. I think we've had enough clothes for today. I've noticed you need a new pair of shoes." She glances down at my five year old ratty Converse, worn at the soles.

We arrive at a salon, with a few new pairs of shoes, for me and for her. I picked out another pair of Converse, a pair of black Vans, and a white sandal, a wedge I think it's called, that are supposed to lace around my ankle. Mia picked those out for me, and talked me into getting them. That's what I'm wearing right now, Mia says I need to so I can get used to how they walk. I'm not a huge fan of them, but I don't hate them, either. They add about three inches to my pathetic height of five foot three.

The stylist calls my name, and I follow her to her chair. I have no clue what I'm doing, so Mia explains clearly what she wants done with my hair. My hair is too dull, as Mia puts it. Dull? I, for one, never had a thought in the world that hair can be dull. Seconds thoughts start to kick in about now.

Why did I let her talk me into this? The stylist begins. I watch as she tugs at my hair, and hacks away at a few pieces with a razor. She only applies this to a few spots and leaves my hair as is in other. The stylist makes small conversation, asking me about my life, my age, what school I go to. I groan silently, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Alright, babe, are you ready to see the new you?"

The new me? Yeah, right. I nod and she turns the chair so I face the mirror. My eyes open and I stare down my reflection. Here I was sure I would hate what they've done to my hair.

They've dyed my hair an ash blonde color, a few shades darker than my original platinum blonde, and, to my request, they've dyed the under layers of my hair the color of coffee grounds. The way they styled my bangs, they styled them so the swept over my right eye in a surprisingly cute way.

"Wow," I mutter, awe struck. I can hardly believe they managed to do _this _to my hair, when I can hardly contain the wild locks into a decent looking bun. It was certainly a change, but I didn't think it made me a new Sabree.

"This is a good luck for you, babe. It turned out much better than I thought." Marie, my stylist, cheers, popping her gum. She asks if I want in done in any special way, but I shake my head, and request to have it slicked back into a simple half pony tail.

"Oh, my god. Marie! This is so great! She looks fabulous!" Mia giggles, and examines a piece of my freshly dyed hair. "Oh, Sabree, you look so amazing." She says then glances at her watch. "Oh, would you look at the time. We have to get you back in time for your little date!!"

I just had to say date, didn't I? Ugh. I have to learn to think about things before I say them.

**Stacy's POV**

Why was I here? Honestly, I don't know why I even bother to come to Tony's parties. I don't drink. I don't smoke, so why do I come? To be the designated driver for my friends. Ah, there we go. That's the reason. As funny as it can be watching them parade themselves around drunk and stoned, they end up far to wasted by the end of the party to even get themselves up. Tony and Kathy have to have the place cleaned up by at least 5:30, to avoid getting caught by their father so I guess I've found my role in the world.

"Hey, Stace!" I turn at the sound of the voice to see Tyler approaching me. It's comforting to know that I'm not the only one that sits and watches our friends.

"Hey, man." I say. Tyler leans against the wall behind him.

"Hey, bro, you seen Sabree? Her and my mom took off this morning. The old man and I haven't heard from 'em since. I figured she must've broken away and come here?"

I shake my head, "Sorry, bro, haven't seen her either." I look around, "And she defiantly belongs here."

Tyler nods, "Yeah, the party scene is defiantly for Sabree," he stops and sighs, "As funny as it is to see her stoned off her ass; it's not good for her."

I shrug, "Well, Sabe's been around this stuff all her life, you know? I mean, her own father is the one who was buying her the weed in the first place. It's almost second nature to her."

A blonde girl bounces past with Thunder Monkey. Well, not bounces. It looks more like she's being dragged along. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the girl was Sabree. But, it couldn't be. Sabree has a certain way about her, I suppose. Sabree is not your typical California girl. No one knows what it is about her, but she's just. . .something else.

Tyler manages to snag the girl by the elbow. He looks astounded, as do I. "Sabree?" he asks, his mouth agape. She smiles, and I see her cheeks turn a light pink shade.

She nods, "Yeah, wanna do something about it?" she laughs and playfully punches Tyler.

"Fuck, what did my mom do to you?"

She shrugs, "I know. I'm surprised I like it."

**Sabree's POV**

"Sabree? That you?" Sid's voice rings out from behind me. I love this kid. I'd have to say, I've bonded with him and Tony more than anyone else. I guess, but bonding with Sid wasn't a choice, as his parents and my foster parents would insist on us 'getting to know each other.' Like I said, I love

A huge grin appears on his face, and he twirls me around. "Damn, Mia really did a number on you." He laughs. The energy around Sid is a bit nervous, but not as bad as usual. I notice certain smoothness when his around me, a lack thereof when Thunder Monkey comes around.

"Hey, Sid." Thunder Monkey giggles, twirling a piece of jet black hair around her finger. Sid gulps, and his speech becomes all jumbled together and the poor kid is practically a nervous wreck. Oh, I get it. He likes me, but he _really_ likes Thunder Monkey. I think it's kind of cute how jittery he gets around her.

"Oh, h-hey Thunder Monkey." He manages to stammer out. I smile, and look over at Stacy. Besides Jay, he's really the only one I haven't gotten that acquainted with. I don't know why, he's a nice enough guy. It just seems that every time we at least _try _to have a full conversation, something comes along and drags one, if not both, of us away. Like now for example.

Biniak comes up behind me to shove me forward lightly. But, as most of the boys from Venice, he underestimates his strength, and I go colliding into a very tall, very blonde Stacy Peralta.

"Shit, sorry, Stace." I cringe slightly, pulling away from him.

He just chuckles like it's no big deal. Which I suppose it isn't but whatever. "Nah, nah. It's cool." He says, then stands back to examine my hair some more. "I never expected this from you." He jokes.

"Yeah. Apparently Biniak didn't either." I laugh, as the half way drunken skater picks and chooses certain pieces of my hair to look at.

"Well, for the record, it looks good." I smile at Stacy's compliment and another conversation almost begins, but Tony shoves a plastic cup full of beer in my hand. I then feel Shogo press his hands against the small of my back to push me into following Tony. I look back at Stacy, shrug, then mouth out the words, I'm sorry.

"Sabe, we're just about to go smoke up. It's mandatory that you be there!" Shogo laughs, as I take my first swallow of vodka in ages. The bitter liquid burns as it slides down my throat, it's my first taste of vodka since I got put back into the foster home, so I expect it to be a little harsh.

**Stacy's POV**

I sigh and focus my gaze on Kathy and Jay. How could she hurt me like that? I know it was months ago, but I still feel the same pain I felt the first time Jay told me him and Kathy were a 'thing.' Jay, my 'friend.' I shake my head. I shouldn't be thinking so harshly about Jay. Despite his morals being slightly twisted around, I can truly call Jay one of my friends. He was the only one who had the guts to tell me Skip didn't want me on the team to begin with. And, to be fair, he **did **tell me the truth about Kath. . .

I see Sabree take the open seat next to me, and watch as little droplets of whatever she has in the two cups splatter onto the seat.

"Music, weed and alcohol; this is defiantly a Tony Alva party." She chuckles, offering me the cup in her right hand.

I look down at it, questionably. She does know I don't drink, right? "Um,"

"Don't worry, Peralta," she shakes her head, placing the cup in my hand herself. "It's just Sprite, bro."

I never expected this from Sabree. I mean, yeah, Tyler's told us of a huge change in Sabree's behavior but I didn't think she would do something this nice. Even if it was something as simple as going out of her way to get me Sprite instead of vodka. "I thought Tony wanted you to go smoke," I say, paying close attention to how my voice drifts off.

Sabree pauses, cup half to way up to her lips. She then looks at and shakes her head. "Nah. Apparently Shogo's definition of 'smoking' is to watch Tony and Red Dog have a contest to see who could drink the most beer without puking. Tony won, by the way."

I nod, taking a swig of my Sprite, "Yeah. . .that sounds like them." Again, my voice goes soft and mine and Sabe's conversation goes distant. My eyes go straight to Jay and Kathy, all cuddled up on her dad's chair.

"Stace? Stacy," Sabree's voice began to come in loud and clear. Even she could feel the uneasiness in my gaze. Someone I'd only known for a short time could even pick out I wasn't over Kath. . .

She sighs, taking a small drink of her vodka, "You can't let her get to you like that, Stace."

Her answer catches me off guard, "You heard about that, huh?"

Her eyes get big and she laughs, "Chyeah. Can we say slut?"

I give her a look. "Yeah…I tried playing nice with Kathy once. It' didn't work." She explains, tossing her head back to let the last of her vodka slide down her throat.

I bite my lower lip and turn to face her, "Yeah, well, Kathy's not the only one to blame."

Sabree nods, stacking her empty yellow plastic cup in mine, "Yeah. It's Jay's fault, too. He's an ass. Ick."

"Jay is a jackass sometimes. . .but his heart his in the right place. He really tries, you know?" I say, ignoring the rush-y sick feeling dwelling in the pit of my stomach long enough to look her in the eyes.

She scoffs, "Haha, good one, Stace. Look, all I know is that Kathy doesn't deserve this little slump she's put you in." she shrugs, and her gaze catches with mine. Her gray eyes. . .are hard to explain. They're very light. . .almost understanding. Not a distant, ugly, scary gray.

I offer her a half smile. Honestly, I never expected Sabree, of all people, to be telling me this. She strikes me as more of an 'I don't care' person, but I guess Ty was right about her-- I can see the personality change now.

We sit there for a minute or two, saying nothing. Maybe this was the moment of bonding that Tyler had been insisting we get. Maybe it's a moment where nothing needs to be said. Well, whatever _**this **_moment is, it's interrupted by Tony.

"Sabe, we're 'bout to blaze up. C'mon." he says, taking Sabree by the wrist to drag her along. She jumps, trying to shake the surprise wrist grabbing off. Her lips curve into a smile.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" she laughs. Then she did something I didn't expect. She looked back at me, I stare back at her uncomfortably. Then she says,

'I won't smoke too much,' Before Tony drags her off to some vacant room in his house.

Two hours later Sabree and Tony emerge from the room, smoke floating out behind them. They both seem more than stoned. Maybe a good amount of alcohol floating in their veins, too.

I shake my head, angered by the fact she broke her promise. To make matters worse, the next thing she does is lean in and kiss Tony. As usual, Blanca isn't aware of Tony's little escapades with other girls behind her back. Even if they are too wasted to realize their own actions, it is what it is. I pray that Tony doesn't remember this in the morning as he backs Sabree up into the wall, trailing kisses down her neck.

That moment between us, it had to be more than bonding. If it was just a moment of bonding, I wouldn't have this immense anger surging through my body. I close my eyes and try to shake it off. I give myself a little talk in many failed attempts to calm myself down. Sabree lands with a _thunk _on the floor. All the pot and the alcohol must have gotten to her. Tyler must have seen her pass out as he runs to her side, automatically checking for a pulse.

"Shit! Dude, what the fuck happened to her?!" He yells. He's panicked. Anyone can tell when Tyler's in a panic, his left eyebrow twitches uncontrollably.

"She drank and smoked too much." I explain as calmly as I'm able to allow myself.

"Fuck! I can't take her home like this! My parents will kill her! Then they'll kill me!"

My teeth catch my bottom lip and I contemplate my next move. "Shit...I'll take her to my house. Just tell your parents that she's staying the night at a friends' house, or something." I decide, reluctantly. I help get the poor girl onto Tyler's back.

"Thanks, Stace. I owe you one, buddy."

**Sabree's POV**

I awake with a start. I had another dream about my life before Tyler's house, before the foster home. The first time my father had beaten me, the first time I got stoned-- everything. Why do these dreams keep plaguing me? Ugh. I have a pounding head ache and on top of it all I don't know where I am. The walls are varied shades of yellow, the room is medium sized and surf posters splatter the wall.

Where am I? I groan, dragging myself over to a mirror. My hair is a tangled, knotted up mess. Clumps of mascara stick to my cheeks, accompanied by smeared eyeliner. I look awful. I'm normally not one to care about appearances, but I look like shit today. My eyes trail down to my neck, to an unfamiliar dark mark. I run my fingers over it and I remember. The party, the promise. Everything.

"Fuck…" my eyes grow wide. Tony. . . after we got stoned. I know we drunk a lot after that? But, what else?

The opening of a door catches my attention. It closes but I jump and crawl under the desk in the strange, banana colored room. "Stacy?"

"In the kitchen, dad."

Stacy?! I'm in Stacy's bedroom? Oh shit. I must have been pretty fucked up last night to be here. Stacy. . .Crap. Not even half way into the morning and I've fucked things up twice.

The promise of last night comes flooding back. I told Stacy I wouldn't do too much of anything. A wave of regret washes over me, as I come from my hiding spot. Am I the biggest bitch in the world? I think so. My fingers trace over the hickey once more. Great. Now I'm a bitch _and _a slut.

I hold my breath and wait until his dad leaves the house again. I scurry out into the small dining room, searching for Stacy. Did he leave? Oh, God. I hope not. I look around the house once more, praying that Stacy wouldn't be too harsh on me if I found him.

I hear a sigh, and see his blonde hair flicker in the wind slightly in the wind out of the corner of my eye. He's in his back yard. I take small, coward like-steps outside. "Stace?" I say his name in little more than a whisper.

He just looks back at me His ocean blue eyes are actually burning with an intense anger, almost a look of hate. I can't even begin to describe the pained look in his eyes. I don't think Stacy has ever looked at anyone with this much anger before. . not even Jay and Kathy.

"D-did I have sex with Tony last night?" The words roll of my tongue. I couldn't have. . I haven't even had a boyfriend yet.

He shakes his head, "No, but you might as well have." He snaps. His voice takes on a tone that I've never heard him speak before. His look softens up a bit, "You promised me you wouldn't smoke too much." He frowns and the scornful look in his perfect blue eyes melts away, being replaced with melancholy look of disappointment.

I nod, "I know…I-I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, "Go home, Sabree. There's only so long Ty and I can cover for you." He says, then grabs his surf board to go inside, leaving me all alone.

'You promised me you wouldn't smoke too much.' Those words keep playing over and over in my head. They're taunting me. . . I didn't think it was possible for Stacy to be so angry at someone.

'You might as well have.' Those words cut me deeply. Nothing has ever hurt me more than hearings those five words. Not my dad's regular beatings, the first time he hurt my mom, the first time I figured I was never going to have a family. For the first time since I've been in California, hot tears press themselves in my eyes. I suck.


	5. You're not my parents

**Sabree's POV**

It's been two weeks. Stacy and I **still** haven't made up. He won't even look at me. . . I honestly don't blame him. I broke my promise, got stoned, drunk and I made out with Tony. Gross. All of this happened in the course of two hours, even. Tony. That reminds me, I **have **to find out if he remembers anything about the party. He whizzes past me on his skateboard, but I reach my hand out and grab the hood of his jacket to yank him off.

"Shit! Damn, Bree Bree! What's sooooo important that it can't wait 'til I'm done shredding?" He laughs. Bree Bree? Ugh. This boy has some serious issues.

I shoot him a disgusted look, "Don't **ever** callme that again," I snap. "Tony, do you remember anything about the party last weekend?

Tony's features tangle into a confused look, and he tries hard to recollect the events of his killer house party, "Nope, sorry chicka. Is there anything I should remember? Anything _important_?"

Oh, I just love how he emphasizes 'important'. But, thank god. Just the answer I was looking for. "Ha. In your dreams, Alva. No, I just can't remember shit."

He shrugs then hops right back on his board to rejoin the gang.

Well, I can check that off the list. That was the easy part of today, though. You would never think it takes so much confidence to just smile at someone. Even if it just is a fake smile. Well. . .it is quite hard when the particular person you're trying to pass that fake smile at seemingly hates you with every fiber of their being. No. . .Stacy couldn't _hate _me. Could he? I shudder at the thought of Stacy Peralta hating me before I even got a chance to know him. He looks over at me, I almost missed my chance! So, with what little courage I have at the moment, I smile in his direction, hoping for only the best reaction.

He looks right past me. Almost like I wasn't even there. I knew it. I knew it! A waste of confidence, that was. I give up. I press my spine against the back wall then sink down, burying my face in the comfort of my hands. Really, I am trying my hardest to accept the fact that Stacy does hate me and move on.

But that damn voice in the back of my head keeps stopping me. You know that little voice that tells you when you're doing something wrong? That one. I was always convinced I never had one of those, but it keeps pounding itself into the back of my head. 'Apologize! Apologize to Stacy! Give it a shot!' it screams over and over again, until I can't take it anymore.

"Okay…okay fine. I'll go try to apologize."I mutter, picking myself up.

I suppose I never noticed how well, tall, Stacy is. Not until this very moment, as I creep up behind him.

"Stace? Can I talk to you for a sec?"

He looks at me. And, if only for a moment, his eyes have that. . .that gleam in them when he looks at me. It's almost mesmerizing. And to think I'm the cause of his eyes loosing that sparkle. At the sight of me, the spiteful look returns but he nods his head, and follows me to my wall.

I position myself against the wall again, "Look, Stace...I am really, really sorry about what happened at Tony's party. I broke my promise to you and you had to see me act that way with Tony." I shudder as my mind begins to produce images of how that must've looked to Stacy.

"It's fine, Sabe." He says. Now, 'its fine' normally coming from Stacy Peralta would be acceptable. .. if he had meant it. This 'it's fine' is emotionless, hollow.

It's fine? I knew this was a lost cause. I groan, and get ready to walk away. Cue tiny voice of reason. "No, it's not. I mean…what I did wasn't cool. I should have stopped it sooner-"

He cuts me off, "Sabe, it's fine, really." I can't stand the coldness in his voice. I didn't think Stacy was possible of achieving a freeze out of this magnitude.

"No, it's not!" I yell, causing the heads of Ty, Sid, Jay and Tony to snap up in unison. If this were some sort of play, the spotlight would be beaming down on me and Stace right now.

Tony's eyebrows furrow together and he gets that stupid ass look on his face, "Dude, what's goin' on?" Tyler shrugs it off. I guess I owe him an apology, too.

I bite my tongue. Oops. I repeat my last statement, this time remembering to use my 'inside voice.' "Stacy, look, it's not fine, alright?" I take a deep breath before continuing, "Okay, it's not fine. This is a really big deal to me. . .mostly because I've never had to say sorry to someone and actually mean it. But, I guess I've never hurt anyone this badly and wanted to apologize."

Stacy bites his lower lip, as if he's processing my apology, trying to figure out if he should forgive me or not. I wish he'd say something. This silence is killing me, and I think I might explode from the anticipation if he doesn't give me an answer soon. It doesn't make sense though. Why do I care so much if Stacy forgives me or not? There has to be some explanation. Unless I have feelings for Stacy…No, that can't be it. I haven't known him that long at all.

After what seemed like forever, I think Stacy finally makes his decision. Certainly not the one I was hoping for. He looks through me once more and shakes his head, before walking away.

Game over, I think, hiding my face in my hands again. I slip down to the ground and stay there for a few moments, before Sid slides in to the spot next to me.

He grins, brown eyes wide and sparkling. "Hey, Sabe."

I look up at the kindly boy and smile slightly, "Hey."

"Hey, what's going on between you and Stace? I haven't seen him this down since the whole Jay/Kathy thing."

My jaw just sort of hangs open. "Shit. I really fucked up, didn't I?" I sigh, "At T.A's party the other night, Stacy and I were just talking about Kathy. Then Tony comes up and says he was gunna get stoned with Shogo, and he wanted me to come. Anyways, I went, but before that I promised Stace I wouldn't drink or smoke very much. Well, about two hours later, I come out with Tony, drunk and stoned as all hell, and, I don't know, I guess we sorta made out, or whatever and Stacy saw. So not only did I break my promise to him, he also saw me with Tony. Slutty, stoned, drunk me. I tried apologizing, but I guess I was right. It's a lost cause. I mean, Stacy won't so much as _glance _in my direction, Sid."

Sid gives me a sympathetic look, resting his head against mine.

"Don't worry about it. Just give him some time. It's impossible for Stacy to stay mad at some one, no matter what they did."

I give him an odd look, he chuckles. "See Adams, Jay for example number one.

I nod understandingly, and wrinkle my nose at the slight mention of Jay's name, "Thanks, Sid. Anyway, I'm gunna head home. Just tell Ty I don't feel good, or something."

He nods and pats me on the back before I get up, "Yeah. Sure, whatever you want, Sabe."

o.o

"Mia? Larry? I'm home!" I call. No response. Weird. They should be home. I kick my board off to the side.

"In the kitchen, Sabree." I hear Mia call. I wander into the kitchen and my eyes meet up with the sight Larry, Mia, and Paula all gathered around the table. Like I haven't seen this scene before. Either Mia and Larry have decided to get rid of me, or I got caught smoking. Both are very likely scenarios.

"What's going on?" I ask lightly, making my way over to the round kitchen table.

"Ah, Ms. Thomas, sit." Paula opens with a smile, patting at an empty chair between her and Mia. I take my spot and Mia nearly bursts into tears, taking my hand in hers.

"Sabree, honey, I'm afraid something's come up," She begins. Somethings came up? Oh, great. That is just what I need. "It's about your father."

My father? What does my dad have to do with anything? "And?"

This is the part where Paula raises begin to fiddle with the buttons on her jacket, her own habit before breaking big news, "And, he wants you to come back and live with him. He says he went through rehab, he's gotten a better paying job. He's better now, honey."

Yeah, but Karen is still there. . .I add mentally. The news knocks me speechless.

"But, he can't do that. Can he?

Paula grimaces, "Oh, Sabe, I'm afraid he can. All he has to do is pay your child support and sign a few papers by the end of the month. But, Mia and Larry can take him to court for complete custody, if you want, that is."

Of course I wanted them to take my dad to court. I didn't want to go back there. I don't buy that "I went to rehab" excuse. He's gone to 'rehab' every year since I was put into foster care. "So that's it? He signs a few papers, pays child support, and if we lose the case, I go back?

She nods, "I'm afraid so. But, remember, he does have until the end of the month."

I've heard enough. . . I push my chair back, and high tail it upstairs. I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe how simple it is to take me back. . .

Tears begin to blur my vision as I face down a picture of my dad and I. . I was five at the time, and my light blonde hair had been strewn into two long pigtails, and my mother had dressed in a little pink and white checkered dress, and my dad was holding me, balancing me on his hip. That was when I actually had a family. . .but now that all seemed so far away.

All the anger pent up inside me finally spills out, causing me knock the picture to the ground. And I watch as the glass breaks, and scatters all over the ground. I hate him. I hate him so much. The tears finally make their way down my face. Fast, burning tears splatter themselves on the broken glass.

A light reflects off one of the larger shards of glass among the small slivers, and catches my eye automatically. I lean over to pick it up. I let it slip through my fingers a few times, contemplating what do with it. Fuck it. My life's already a wreck anyways. I press the tip of the glass into my skin and rip it across my wrist. The red liquid comes running down my arm. It's warm. . .

Self mutilation was all too new of a concept for me. It's so. . .unknown. Unspoken of. No one else I know possibly knows the rush that comes with the pain. It's almost an out of body experience. . .like doing drugs without the price of getting caught. I love it. So I do it again. And again. And again once more. Four fresh, red cuts one after another.

I drop the glass into a place only to be found by me, then walk to the bathroom to clean myself up. It's almost rewarding to watch the water and blood merge. Self worth, I think is what this is. Yeah, self worth. I rub my wrist with a towel to dry off the water. 10:00 Stacy's shift should be ending soon.

'Just give him some time' Sid's words resound in my head. Maybe this was enough time? I shut my door, shut off my light, and throw on my hoodie. Then I creep towards my always open bedroom window. Lucky for me, a tall oak tree grew right outside my window. Within jumping distance of my roof. I crawl out and crouch down on the shingled roof for a moment and slowly stand up, steadying myself to reach over to a sturdy branch.

_To Venice Noodle Company!_ I think, rather heroically, as I shimmy down my main escape route. I pull the arm of my sweater down to hide the strawberry gashes marking my glowy skin. I must say. . .the time spent in the sun has done wonders for my skin. But, for now, the cuts will be my little secret.

….

The bell attached to the top of the door called out as I entered the empty building known as Venice Noodle Company. It wasn't very often that this place was so barren, so I admit, it's a bit odd to in this place crowded with only those who were put on night shift. I don't see Stacy, which leads me to believe he's finished up early for the night. I sigh and begin to think my brave escape was all for nothing.

As I turn to leave, but a tall blonde catches my eye. It's got to be Stacy, as his co-workers are about half his size, brunettes, and females. I snag a seat in the booth his about to bus. He comes up, laughing at one of his co-workers comments.

"Yeah, good one, Carla." He stops upon seeing me. But this time he doesn't look hateful. . .he looks surprised.

"Hey, Stace." I offer him a smile and a wave.

"Hey," he says, casually. His voice is back to the normal chipper 'Stacy' tone. That's always a good thing. _Always._

Silence passes through the two of us for an awkward minute, before Stacy askes, "What are you doing here, Sabree?"

I shrug, searching for a lie. "I just came to see how you were doing. I mean, you looked pretty pissed today, and I know it's because of me."

He nods, "Yeah. I was pretty pissed at you." Ouch. That kind of hurt. He then smiles, and shakes his head, "But I'm over it now. Just promise me you'll never pull a stunt like that again. And I mean really promise me?"

A chuckle escapes my lips, but I nod, "I promise. I will never ever pull a stunt like that again."

"Good," he glances at the watch on his wrist, "it's late. I'll give you a ride home; I really don't want you walking alone. Venice ain't the safest place to be at night."

"Thanks. But, I don't feel like going home quite yet."

Stacy shrugs, "That's fine by me. My dad doesn't expect me home until about twelve anyway."

….

**Stacy's POV**

I shiver a bit, as the cool night breeze passes through my jacket. I didn't mind. I stop, fold my arms across my chest, and look out at the ocean. I've never been at the beach this late at night before. The shining silver stars lining the indigo colored sky reflect in the water, the large pale moon hovering not far above the restless ocean.

Sabree joins me, hoping on the hood of my car. She smiles, almost like she was recalling a fond memory. "I love the beach at night. Me and my sister used to come here all the time.

How did I know? I smile softly, brushing some hair behind my ear. "You know, I've lived here all my life, but I've never been to the beach this late." I pause. "I didn't know you had a sister."

She laughs lightly, and nods, "Yeah. Karlee, she's eighteen now. But I was about eight the last time I saw her. This was _before_ my family came to a screeching halt. My dad started the affair with Karen about a year into working his new job. When my mom found out, she was furious. So she took Karlee and left. It was after that when Karen got my dad into smoking pot and drinking alcohol. That's when everything changed. It was like, Karen would do or say anything to make my dad hit me."

I bit my lower lip, and regret asking the question. "Wow, Sabe. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

She shakes her head, "No, it's okay. I remember the first time my dad hit me, actually. It was pretty late at night and I had just back from Leah's house. I was going to me room so I could get some sleep. My dad was piss drunk when I came home. I think he forgot I was with Leah. . so he asked where I was. When I looked up to answer him, I saw a wine glass shatter against the wall behind me. 'Sabree, why the fuck did you steal from my wallet?' he said. Then he shoved me up against the wall and landed a punch right in my stomach."

"Sabe, that sounds awful. No body should have to put up with that."

She shrugs, "Really, it's ok. I mean, I'm with Tyler now, and I never have to go back to him again." She looks at the ground, and kicks at the sand with the toe of her Converse. I feel terrible for making her recall something so horrible.

**Sabree's POV**

Silence takes place of conversation again. I think it upset Stacy a bit that he asked. It's not a big deal, really. Not to me, anyway. I keep my gaze focused on the ground, and close my eyes. I feel Stacy make a slight movement. I look out of the corner of my eye. His arm is draped gingerly across my shoulders, like he's trying to comfort me or something. Whatever he is trying to do, it's working.

The call of gulls snaps my attention upward and I laugh slightly. I can't believe I'm about to tell this to Stacy. "I used to hate birds."

He looks at me in a funny way, "Because they could fly. I was always so jealous. Even after my mom left with Karlee, I would always sit outside and watch them. And I'd wish that I could fly, too, so I could just get away from my dad and his stupid girlfriend. But, that stays between us. And only between us. No body knows that, and I'd like to keep it that way."

He laughs, "Alright, you got it. I'll keep my mouth shut."

"Good. Hey, Stace, what time is it?"

"Almost 11:30, why?"

"Shit. I need to get back. Mia and Larry know that even I can go so long without food."

"Wait, they don't know you're out?" He asks, tilting his head to the side.

I shake my head, "They haven't the slightest clue."

He grins, "Well, I guess some things never change, eh?"

I roll my eyes, giving him a playful shove, "Yeah, yeah. Just take me home, Peralta."

….

"Thanks, Stace. I appreciate the ride home." I say and watch him slowly pull up behind my house.

"Nah, it's not a big deal." He shrugs, "Just get in there before you do end up getting caught."

I smile at him one last time before I exit his car. "Bye, Stace." I say before I run to my escape root.

The light in my room clicks on, and, as luck would have it, Larry and Mia we're sitting on my bed, expecting a good excuse as to why I came home at almost twelve o' clock at night.

"Well, young lady?! What do you have to say for yourself?" Larry snaps. I feel my temperature begin to boil.

"Sabree Ann Thomas, what do you think you are doing being out so late? And without our consent! Who were you with, Sabree?" Mia snipes at me.

"Just a friend. And I don't need your consent, you're not my parents," Oh, that was clever. . I think before continuing, "I'm sorry I snuck out. But, shit. After the bomb Paula just dropped on me? I needed to get out because, I know you guys aren't going to take my dad to court."

"Oh, Sabree," Mia's voice softens, "You know for a fact that that isn't true." She coos, rubbing my shoulders as I turn away from them.

"Just go away."


	6. That hurts, Foster Girl That hurts bad

**Tyler's POV**

"Hey, Sabe, I heard my parents bitching at you last night. What the fuck did you do?"

Sabree jumps out of her own skin at the sound of my voice. I think I interrupted a deep thinking session. She just shrugs her shoulders and flicks her bangs from her view. "I snuck out at like, 10:00 last night and didn't come home 'til 12:00. I guess I didn't lock my door or something. When I came home, they were sitting on my bed, waiting for me.

"Yeah, that sounds like my parents. Why'd you sneak out in the first place?"

"I wanted to see if Stacy was okay. I apologized for the party," she looks at me, "I _guess_ I owe you an apology, too. Thanks, man. You totally saved my ass."

I run a hand through my hair, "Eh, it's what I do." I say, in my ladies man voice. Sabree makes a gagging motion at my brief arrogance. I tilt my head to this side, riddled by the fact Sabree is wearing a thick, black hoodie in the middle of an 80 degree summer in Santa Monica, California. "Sabe, what's with the jacket homes? It like, a bajillion degree outside."

"No reason. Just feel like wearin' a jacket. Is there a problem with that?"

I shake my head, "Oh, no. I just think that a jacket would be a little hard to surf in that's all…"

Her head pops up at the mention of surfing. She thinks a moment before politely shooting me down. "Nah, I'll take a rain check, though. I'll just watch."

"Um, okay. Whatever you want, Sabe. Just hurry up about it, the guys are already down at the pier."

o.o

"Tyler! Shit, it's about time, bro!" Tony rushes up to me. He looks Sabree over and shakes his head. "Sabree, baby, what's with the get up? Last time I checked you couldn't surf in this shit." He laughs, pawing at her jacket with mock interest.

She smacks his hand away like a four year old, "Just don't feel like getting wet today."

"Hey, its cool chicka. How 'bout you and me just blaze up tonigh, alone?"

Sabree stalls, "Define 'alone'." She bends her fingers into little quotation marks.

Tony snakes his arm around her waist, "Alone. As in, you, me, a bowl."

"Wow. As great as that sounds, Tony, I'm gonna have to say no."

He fakes a pained look, "That hurts, Foster girl. That hurts bad." Jay calls him over before he can continue his scene.

"Alright, who are you and what have you done with the _**real **_Sabree?" I step up and examine girl who claims to be the Sabree Ann Thomas I've lived with for two months now.

She shrugs, "What's the supposed to mean?"

"It's called a joke, Sabe. You know, ha-ha? You _do _remember how to laugh, right?"

Aha, there it is-- the Sabree death glare. She must mean business if she's dishing it out already. I let out a sigh. "Sabe, you just don't seem like yourself today."

She gives me a, "You'd better stop with the bullshit" look, "I'm just really tired from last night."

I send a look to rival her own. By now, I've perfected my mothers 'I can tell when you're lying to me' look. It's very threatening when my mother goes balls to the wall angry.

"Ty, I'm fine, man. Really." She reassures, laying one hand on my arm, "Dude, you know I wouldn't lie to you. Now go and surf. I guess I kind of feel bad about making you miss all the killer swells." She says with that certain 'Sabree' kind of way we've become used to hearing.

**Sabree's POV**

After two hours of watching the boys' mind numbingly boring surfing, we stand outside of the Zephyr shop. We don't dare to take even one step inside, almost like the ageing yellow brick building was some foreign place and the owner and contents inside would devour is if we even thought about going in. Oh well. Watching the boys make asses' out of themselves suits my fancy just fine.

Stacy's normal carefree glow returned to him, something I'm more than positive he missed. I've missed it too, but Stacy can never know that. I sat there, motionless,drifting off into my own little dream land. I was quite happy there, no distractions, no boys, no foster parents. No anything. I was alone, as I like to be some days when the quite side of me takes over.

The slapping of hands on the brick building behind me brings me back into reality. To my misfortune, Jay's impish face is inches away from mine, a serious look painted on his features. I gasp, now realizing that Jay Adams was invading **my **personal bubble. My person bubble! What the hell is wrong with this kid? "Fuck! Jay, you fucking asshole!" I scream and shove him away with all the strength I have in my tiny body.

He chuckles, returning to his previous position, "Why'd you shoot Tony down? It's not like you to let an offer like that pass by. Afraid a repeat of the party might happen?" Oh, he is an evil son of a bitch.

I stumble for a comeback, but his smart ass has knocked me speechless. I hate him. Not like a two year old "I hate you" to their mother but an intense, I'm gonna rip out your finger nails and make sure you never surf or skate another day in your life hate.

"H-how did you know what?"

"I have my ways," he says, giving me a smug look, "Ya know, foster girl, I think Tony deserves to know about what went down that night."

"Jay, I swear to God, if you tell Tony even one little detail, I'll deck that smug face of yours straight in, do you understand me?" I spit, Jay just laughs but that doesn't stop him from giving me that look I despise.

"Tell Tony what?" I look over to see none other than Tony quickly coming up to me and Jay. Jay greets Tony silently, and then turns his attention back to me before he shoves himself off the wall, returning to Sid, Stace and Ty.

"Nothing." I hiss, shaking my head. As much as it kills me to say this, Jay is right. I guess Tony does kind of deserve to know about that night. I run a hand through my hair, a nervous habit I've picked up, and sigh, "Look, Tony. More went on between us at your party than you think…"I trail off, causing Tony's full attention to come to me and only me.

"Yeah, and?"

"And, well, the thing is, you and I sort of...fuck." I stop mid sentence after seeing a figure much resembling my father come closer and closer.

"Fu- what the hell?"

"No. Shit, dude, that's my dad!" I say, pushing my way past Tony, trying to conceal myself from my father behind the building.

A crowd forms around Tony, and many questions arise from the group.

'Dude, what's going on?' and 'Yeah, that's Sabree's dad, bros' are the most frequently asked.

I try to sneak away from the building, away from the boys' and my father, but my father rounds me off, stepping directly in my path.

"Sabree…Sabree, is that you?"

I freeze, and nod slowly, "Yeah, Dad, it's me."

He smiles softly at me, "You changed your hair. I like it. You still look like your mother, though."

'Lucky me…' I think, taking a step back from my dad. I glance behind me to make sure Tony, Stacey, Sid, Jay, and Ty we're still there. They all give me reassuring looks, and that's all I need to find the confidence to face my dad.

"Heh, guess you're all grown up now, eh?" Rick's, my father, hand reaches up to graze against my cheek, and brush through my bangs. I flinch, nearly letting a frightened cry slip from my mouth. It's all a natural reaction by now. "I miss ya, Sabe. Karen, too. I can't wait until I get you back home with me."

I gulp and immediately I feel Tyler's angry gaze burn holes through my jacket. He knows now. I don't want him to. I don't want anyone to know. I open my mouth to speak, but my throat dries up and I have trouble speaking at all, "I'm not going back home, Dad." I finally cry out, loud enough for him to hear.

He shakes his head, and slips his hand underneath my chin, forcing me to look at him, "Of course you are, Sabree. C'mon. Everything's okay now. I'd start sayin' good bye to your little friends now before you get too attached." He lets me go, and continues on his way home, I suspect. He'd been drinking, I could smell the whisky on his breath. Oh yeah. You're really good for me to come home.

I stumble back, almost losing my balance. That was scarier than I would have liked it to be.

"Sabree! Why didn't you tell me that your dad wants to take you back?" Tyler yells, furious at what my father just said.

I don't feel like explaining myself to Tyler. I don't _have_ to explain myself to Tyler. I ignore his yelling, and storm away.

He curses under his breath, taking off after me. "Sabree! Sabree, just, please." He pleads managing to snag my wrist. His fingers come in contact with the fresh scars on my arm, they sting badly. He's hurting me, but he doesn't realize it. Of course he doesn't. I can't just tell Tyler what I did that night, because it'll send him into a breakdown. Just this alone is enough to start one.

I wriggle free of his grasp and turn to face him, "Because I didn't want anyone to know! Because of reasons like this! Because I can't deal with the screaming, or the arguing, right now. Don't you get it Tyler?!"

"Sabree…I- I'm sorry. I just would have liked to know about this. When did you find this out? Do my parents know?" he questions, and tries reaching out to me.

I pull back on instinct, "Just drop it Tyler! Just drop it, and leave me alone!" I scream, beginning to back away.

He takes a step closer to me, and suddenly I feel like I'm ten years old again, trying desperately to get away from my father, when there's only a corner to back myself into, and stupidly trap myself. Hot tears build up behind my eyes, Tyler takes another step closer. I turn around and run, with no destination in mind. It's not like I have a place to run to, anyway. I look behind me, and see Tyler get smaller and smaller as my feet carry me further and further away from him.

**Sid's POV**

Nobody has said anything. The shock of Rick's sudden appearance still hadn't washed off, and Sabree just ran off like that. I look at Tyler. He's confused, angry, and worried all at the same time. I don't blame him. Sabree's become so much more than just a girl his parents took in. The way he acts around her, the way she acts around him. It's like they we're blood related. I can only imagine what he must feel.

"So, what now?" I speak up.

Tyler looks up at me, "We go home and wait. That's all we can do."

…

We've been at Tyler's house an hour, and still no sign of Sabree. The arms of the clock indicate its half past 11:00. Again, Tyler's parents and my parents were out of town for a time, leaving Tyler's house a usual hang out.

My gaze travels over to Stacy, who shares the same expression as Tyler. He remained quite, twiddling his thumbs. I wonder what he was thinking about. Jay told me some shit about him maybe liking Sabree, but sometimes Jay isn't the most reliable source. But, Stacy is hard to read sometimes. It's just his nature to care about people in times like these. He did say something about the beach last night. I don't know anything for sure.

I hear a window being shut from upstairs. We all look at Tyler in a questionable manner.

"Think that's her?" Stacy speaks up.

Tyler shrugs, "Has to be, no one else knows how to open that fuckin window in Sabree's room."

"Well, someone should go and check," I suggest, and everyone looks at me. "W-wait! Why me?" I stutter.

"Why not? She won't talk to Tyler, I know for a fact she won't let Jay in there." Stacy explains, whisking his blonde hair behind his shoulders, "Sid, man, if it doesn't work, then I'll go up there. And, if I can't get anything out of her, we'll send Tony."

"Tony? _He's _supposed to be our ace in the hole?" I exclaim, and Tony looks a little insulted, "No offense, T.A, this isn't exactly your area of expertise."

Jay scoffs, "You can say that again."

I groan, "Fine…I'll go." I push myself out of the chair, and head upstairs to Sabree's room. "Sabree?" I rap softly at the door, and it opens enough for me to peek my head in. I wasn't ready for what I saw. Blood dripping down her arm, from a gash she created herself. How could she do something like that to herself? I take a deep breath, and enter the room. "Sabe…" I say softly, drifting off.

Her head jerks up at the sound of my voice, her hair flying in front of her face, sticking to her tear stained cheeks. "S-Sid…please don't tell anyone." She sobs, pressing the sleeve of her sweater against her wound to stop the bleeding.

I shake my head, crouching down in front of her, "I wouldn't dream of it."

It's silent for a few minutes, but Sabree finally breaks down, and confesses to me, "Oh, Sid. It's not supposed to be this way. I'm not supposed to go back to my dad. I'm not supposed to leave Tyler, Tony, Stacy or you!" she cries, resting her head in the crook of my neck. This is the closest I've been to Sabree, making it slightly awkward for me. I nod. I understand what she means. I give her a quick embrace, but gently push her away, resting my hands on her shoulders. I really hate to break this to her when she's in this condition, but I think this will help her more when I say I understand.

"Sabe, look, I know. I know how things don't work out like they're supposed to."

She shakes her head, "How could you?" she asks tearfully.

I hesitate, brushing a strand of hair of her cheek, "Because…I…you know how I have bad ears?" I state slowly, and she nods, "Well, that's not all that it is. When my parents took me to the doctor to have a look at my ears, they found a tumor. On my brain…"

She cries out harder, I can tell that defiantly that she wasn't what she needed to hear.

…

I figure we've been in her room for an hour and a half. Most of the time was spent with her crying, and me being there to comfort her. The flow of tears had stopped, and I think Sabree had officially cried until she couldn't cry anymore.

"You know you have to tell them." I say, tracing my fingers along the cuts on her arm.

"I know."

"Especially Stacy. He really cares about you, you know."

She takes a shaky breath, and shakes her head, "Yeah, but he cares about everyone."

"Not the way he cares about you."

She looks at me, with an almost hopeful, but more shocked, glint in her eye. Shit, I think I said too much. I shake my last statement off, "Um, why don't you get cleaned up, and I'll meet you downstairs."

She nods, holding her hair back with her hands.

Everyone's eyes landed one my as soon as I hit the first stair.

"Sid, she okay man?" Stacy asked, with that worried Stacy look on his face.

"Yeah, she's fine, guys," I pause, taking a deep breath, "I told her about…" I drift off. They all know what I'm talking about.

"Sid! Why did you tell her _that_? That is **not **she needs to hear!" Tyler fumes.

"You think I don't know that? Look, she just… ugh." I groan. "I just had to tell her, okay?"

**Sabree's POV**

Arguing? Great. Yeah, that's _exactly _what I need to cheer me up. I press my back against the wall, listening to Tyler fight and scream with Sid and Stacy. I clear my throat, and place my hand on the stair railing.

Tyler's head snaps up, "Sabree."

I pass him an odd look, "Yes...me Sabree. You Tyler."

He shakes my comment off, "You okay? I mean, you kind of ran off today." He questions as I slide down the railing, jumping off before I hit the floor.

I play with my hair, tying it up into a ponytail, "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry 'bout that, bro. I just don't like being' around people when I'm pissed off like that." I take a seat on the couch, between Stacy and Jay.

Jay looks around, "Shit, bro, how long have we been here?"

Stacy shrugs, glancing at his watch, "A few hours, it's almost 1:50."

"Fuck, dude. We gotta get you guys' outta here."

I gawk at Tyler in disbelieve, "Tyler! Dude, it's almost two in the fuckin' morning, bro! What happened to Venice not being the safest place at this time of night?"

"Yeah, for _you_. Not for these guys, they can handle themselves."

I open my mouth, ready to argue with Tyler's statement I look over at Josephine, who's just getting ready to head to bed herself, "Hey, JoJo, you can keep a secret right?"

The Mexican woman nods, "Well, it wouldn't be the first time I've had to do this, but as long as you get these boys out before Mia and Larry get back, I can keep my mouth shut."

I smile, "Thanks JoJo. Ty, the point is that if they come home this late at night, their parents will flip, and behead them or something like that. They'd be better off crashing here for tonight."

Tyler lets out an aggravated sigh, "Fine, they can stay here for tonight. But they can't stay in the living room. What if Mom and Dad come home early?"

"Ty, our rooms are fuckin huge. Just one could fit all of them, plus us. So, we'll just sleep in your room or something."

Tyler nods, standing up, "Alright, alright. Get your dirty asses upstairs, all of ya." He begins to herd them all up stairs, but Stacy and I stay behind. "You guys comin'?"

I shake my head, "Nah. Stace and I are going to stay down here for a while longer." Tyler gives me a look, and then grins. I groan. I swear, sometimes I wonder about that boy. "Tyler!! Fuck, we're just gunna talk! Jesus Christ!" I pick up a pillow, and chuck it as hard as I can at his head.

"Shit! Kidding, Sabe!" he shakes his head, running upstairs. I sigh, resting my head against the arm of the couch. Stacy just bursts out in laughter, shaking his head.

I feign a chuckle, "This is funny to you, Peralta?"

He nods, "Yeah, actually, it really is." I pick up another pillow, and gently smack Stacy in the arm with it.

….

My eyes peeked open slightly, California rays shine through the window, and cast a shadow from the shadow placed in the middle of the living room. Strands of long, blonde hair fall into my face, tickling it gently. I would assume it to be my own hair, but the thi strands intersecting do not match. I might be crazy. Might be. But I feel the warmth of another presence. Not the warmth of a blanket, we're in California for Christ sakes, but rather of somebody.

Tyler runs downstairs, and shakes me fully awake, "Sabree, you have like five point six seconds to get Stacy out of here. Mom and Dad are home early for some unexplainable reason." Stacy? I fell asleep on Stacy?! Greeeeatttt.

"Sabree? Didn't you hear me? Get Stacy out of here now, or we are toast!" Tyler shouts, sprinting down the stairs to stall the parentals.

"Um. . .right. Uh. . ." I contemplate how to wake this boy up. "Stacy?" I press my hands into his stomach. He jolts up with an 'oof.'

"Thanks for the wake up call Sabe," he rubs his eyes and stretches his magnificent beach bod out.

"Thank me later Peralta. If you don't get outta here stat, me and Ty are dead."

Stacy pulls himself off the couch, and I trail behind him, searching for a way for him to get out. Right now, the kitchen window is looking like the only way out.

"Kitchen, go, go, go." I whisper, fleeing into the kitchen first, pushing the window open. You'd think living in Venice of all places, Mia and Larry would have enough sense to put screens over their windows. I guess their not worried about their place getting mugged. Oh, well. Their ignorance just makes it easier for me to run.

"But, Sabe," he begins, as he tries climbing out the window, pushing himself until his feet dangle above the ground.

"Stace, just, ugh. Just, go. Whatever you have to tell me, just tell me later. If you ever want to see me or Tyler again, just please." I say, slightly aggravated.

He sighs, but pulls himself in a bit more, until he's almost face to face with me. I have no idea what he's doing. He doesn't hesitate, pressing his lips against my cheek. After the deed was done, he slipped from the window and vanished.

I touch my cheek in awe, listening to the lock of the front door click and open.


	7. Kathy wasn't the type of girl, either

**Tyler's POV**

"Sabe, get up. We're going to the cove again." I inform, pounding on Sabree's door. I don't get a response, I assume she's just sleeping late at per usual. "Sabree, get your lazy ass outta bed!" My hand wraps itself around the door knob, turning it until the door opens. I was welcomed into an empty room. The covers on her bed a mess, as I'd pictured it to be, clothes, clean and dirty alike, scattered on the floor.. I've never been in Sabree's room before, but I also never paid attention to unorganized she was for a chick. "Fuckkk." I groan, slamming my fists into her wall. She's gone, again. Again. What could have gone wrong this time? She was perfectly fine last night, after Stacy left, after the scare from my parents. If I would have known they were just coming back so my dad could get his briefcase, Sabree and I would have easily gotten away with hoarding the Z-Boys in our house.

I kick a few articles of clothing out of my way, leaf through a pile or two to see if she'd left a note, or anything. No luck there. I give a frustrated sigh. I tore the sheets off her bed, tossing them to the floor. Still no note. My investigation dives deeper, as I dig through her drawers. I find some, what I think to be interesting, things. Pictures of her as a little girl, pictures of her with another girl around our age, both too stoned to think straight, letters between her and some girl named Karlee, letters from her father. I took a seat on her bed, scanning over a few letters collected in my hand. Many of her fathers' letters trying to convince her to come home, how badly he misses her, how sorry he is for hurting her, things of that sort.

I pull out a notebook next, and flip through that. I'm surprised by the contents of it all. It holds poems, journal entries, little drawings. A new side of Sabree shines out to me. The side she lets no one see. I read one of the journal entries, explaining about the first time her father had beaten her, the first time he'd gotten her high. One sentence from a later confession caught my eye.

**My dad beat me again today. I hate him. I don't know what I could have done to make him so mad. I don't know what I could have done to my mom. Was it so horrible that she chose to take Karlee over both of her daughters? I feel smaller than I really am. I feel like a little mouse; an insignificant creature. I always try to get away from my father when he takes a swing at me, but I always seem to back myself into a corner, like a frightened mouse. No thirteen year old deserves to be treated like this. I wish I could go back to the foster home.**

I let the words soak in my mind. I snap the book shut and toss it back into the drawer. It's creepy to see how horribly her father treats her. It's ever creepier to see that she preserves these memories in ink. I shake my head, hoping what I just read would come flying out of my ears before I continue to the next drawer.

In the next drawer, I pull out a small bag of weed. That doesn't surprise me. What does is that she's managed to keep it hidden for so long. The next thing I pull out is a large shard of glass, blood staining the sharpest tip of it.

"What the hell? Why would she have this lying around?" I question myself, returning everything back to its proper spot. I throw the covers back on her bed, looking for any trace of blood. My mind races back to the day before, when she didn't want to go surfing with us. I search her room for the jacket she was wearing that day. She was wearing it last night, too. I turn it inside out, scouring the sleeves for blood. I pull and trace along the fabric, where it would rub against the skin on your wrist. My heart stops when I come across dried blood. My stomach churns at the mental image I get. I may just be jumping to conclusions, but Sabree wouldn't hide a wound from us unless it was self inflicted.

"No…th-that's crazy. Sabree wouldn't do anything like that to herself. She knows how to deal with things better than that." I talk myself out of the idea, but know it's a jumble of lies. I keep telling myself that I'm letting my imagination run wild, but that doesn't settle my stomach, doing flips, and squirming around inside me.

Tony pounds on the door, yelling at me, asking me if I'm ready or not. It scares me enough to drop the glass. "Shit…" I get down on all fours and scramble around the floor to find it. Once the glass is back in my hand, I toss it on her night stand.

Tony hollers again, "I'm coming!" I yell, exiting Sabree's room. "Okay…Okay...calm down Tyler. You're just being paranoid. Sabree's smarter than that…" I breathe deeply, repeating the phrase to myself until I let the boys in, trying to retain my cool.

"Finally! Jesus what the hell?" Tony asks impatiently, Stacy follows him while laughing.

"Calm down, Tony. We won't miss the swells; it's big out there today." He says, and looks around, "Where's Sabe? She is coming with us, isn't she?"

I shake my head, and Stacy's features shift into a disappointed, almost heart broken, look. "She's not here, man. I don't know where the fuck she is. No note, no anything."

I hear Jay scoff, "Who cares about her, man. She'll be fine for fuck's sake. Let's just go and charge those huge swells before it goes flat again. She'll turn up sooner or later."

In his own way, Jay's right. "Jack ass here is right. We just have to hit the waves. She'll come to us."

…

**Stacy's POV**

After a few hours of surfing, we all go to up to the Zephyr shop. It's practically our second home. Sabree still hasn't show up, but it's still light outside. There is still hope for her appearing.

"Hey, ya little maggots, it's about time you clowns got your asses here." Skip slurs and staggers from the back room. I turn to face him. As usual he has a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and a glass of alchohol clenched in one fist.

"Hey, Skip." I wave, adding a smile to greet the 'master' as he loved to refer to himself as. He silently counts us, and gives off a confused look.

"There's only five of you grommets today. Where's the other one?"

Tyler shrugs, leaning against the counter, "Fuck if we know. She ran off this morning, haven't seen her since."

Tony chuckles, tossing a worn out clay wheel up in the air, "We just gotta think like the chicka. If I were Sabree, where would I be?" he jokes. "Hope she turns up, soon, though. She said she had some shit to tell me."

My heart sinks, thinking it could be what happened at the party. But it can't be, she told me she told him. I hope she turns up, too, but another part of me wishes she wouldn't. Thinking back on it, I'm not sure if kissing her on the cheek was the best move to make. I think she likes me. I think I like her. I could swear I like her. Maybe it was just bad timing?

We all form a circle around Tony watching the attempted balacning act. Sometimes I question Tony's actions but it's funny to watch him do stuff like this. The wheel stays balanced for three, four, five, six seconds before Jay purposly shoves his lanky body into Tony's back. The wheel crashes down to the ground.

At that moment, Sabree and Biniak burst through the door, laughing like maniacs, pushing their way through our crowd, booking it to the back room. What are they doing? We all watch as a local cops flashes past the open door.

Sabree poked her head out, giggling, "Is he gone yet?" I nod, and Sabree and Biniak come from their hiding spot, laughing harder. "Dude! That was fuckin' insane, bro!" Sabree exclaims, high fiving Biniak.

"Sabe, where have you been all day?"

Sabree got out the last of her laughs, and shook her head, "Just fuckin' around with Biniak."

I look her over one last time. Her hair is still damp, falling into controlled waves past her shoulders, and she was dressed in nothing but a flimsy pair of her pajama shorts, her black hoodie, and her bathing suit lying underneath.

"Yeah, man, we got fuckin' high as hell, crashed some gnarly swells, fucked around with a ' 'hacky sack' until it busted the window of a fuckin' cop car and that lead us here." Biniak explains, and I feel a heat rise to my cheeks.

Sabree, herself, shrunk down a bit, cursing out Biniak in her mind. I guess I can't be mad at her; she wasn't all over Biniak half way drunk on top of being stoned. At least, not that I know of. _Damn it, Stacy. Stop thinking like that. Sabree's not that type of girl. _Not that type of girl…those words echo in my head, and my thoughts travel to Kathy. Kathy wasn't that type of girl, either. I shudder at the thought, watching as Biniak snoops around for a spare Zephyr tee for Sabe.

"I'll be back." Sabree announces, clutching a small bag in her hands, and the black Zephyr tee Biniak found for her. She stumbles into the back room, forcing Montoya and Chino out.

She returns minutes later, tying her tousled beach soaked hair into a sad excuse for a bun. The much too large Zephyr shirt had been secured in a knot in the back, fitting accordinly to her shape.

"Alright, so, Sabree's here, what now?" Jay spoke, tapping his foot against the ground, louder and louder each time to signify his patience is wearing thin.

We look to one another, and shrug, nothing immediately coming to our minds. Honestly, I think this is the first time that we have had nothing to do. On a normal day, we'd be zipping between cars in built up mid day traffic, running from cops after getting busted from an illegal pool session, or gathering at Tony's house, while we all waited for his party to begin.

But today was different somehow. We always had an alternative after surfing. The room stayed silent for a few passing moments, awkwardness filling the air.

Sabree raises her hand sheepishly, and we all turn our attention to her, "Let's go fuck around at the beach and raise some hell for some Vals?"

There was a plan we could all agree with. We all clamor, flooding out the front door, with a final 'see ya Skip' from the six of us.

**Sabree's POV**

I don't know how long we've been at the beach. I don't even know how long I was with Biniak, but that's just happens when your high; you loose all your inhibitions, priorities, and everything that once worried you disappeared if only for a few hours. That's why I love it; I don't have to worry about anything. Looking back at my life, I think that's the only thing I'll ever thank my dad for. As usual, I have myself poised away from the boys, laughing, and running around, kicking sand at each other, screaming at the Vals that dared take even one step on the beach, it was like they turned into little kids again. My foot pops up, resting itself against the decaying wood rail I lean my back into.

It's at least been a few hours, and for once, Tyler and I are free to rome around with no strict 9:00 curfew Mia and Larry unfairly brand us with. Mia and Larry. I refer to them so formally. The foster homes I've been in over the years were nothing compared to Mia and Larry's home. They've welcomed me with open arms, watched over me, and haven't treated me as some problem child. They see me as an actual teenager, not some kid whose father is screwed up enough to beat her, and buy her pot and alcohol. I feel…at home with them, like I belong there. The whole thought both terrifies and comforts me at the same time.

I'm glad that I'm not binded to a curfew tonight. I would hate to miss this view. A sunset is usually just a sunset to me, but over the cove, in Dogtown, it's so much more. For once, the ghetto of Santa Monica isn't looked down upon as a city of drugs and hood rats. I close my eyes, enjoying the last rays of sun beaming against my face.

The nearly at its end wooden railing shakes behind me under the presence of another's weight. I crack one eye open to find none other than Stacy Peralta standing next to me, squinting slightly as the disappearing rays shine brightly in his eyes.

"Peralta, what brings you here?" I ask in a friendly matter. Really, I'm overjoyed to have Stacy next to me. I have a feeling things are going to get awkward soon; I still haven't reacted to his little present to me before he left the other night. In reality, I haven't processed it myself. I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm attracted to Peralta, and Stacy isn't the type of guy to pull a bold stunt like that and not mean it. Maybe it's not so bold; maybe it's not as extravagant as I'm thinking it to be, but to me--it's the greatest thing in the world.

He shrugs, "What, I'm not allowed to make casual conversation with a friend?" he jokes right back, nudging me with his elbow gently.

"Of course not. Because boys are just so icky to me; they have cooties." My voice takes on a child like twist, and I stick my tongue out at Stacy.

"Ouch, that hurts." He feigns a distraught look, covering his heart with his hand. He and I both laugh, and I let a giggle slip. I'm slightly disappointed with it, I only giggle drunk, stoned, both or just plain out of it.

"Don't sweat it, kid, you've got good cooties."

"Kid?" He gapes at me, in total shock. It's all fun and games but if we hadn't been together, I would have taken it seriously. "First I have cooties, and now I'm a _kid_ to you?" he exclaims, moving his arms around my waist. His moves are hesitant, so he must by as weary of this as I am. Not so much as weary, but shocked, this was another daring move on his part. I try to move myself free but he just pulls me closer to him, just close enough to kiss if that's what he's planning. We both laugh again.

"I should get brownie points. I said you have good cooties." I laugh, and bit my lower lip.

He sighs in defeat, "Alright, fine, brownie points because I have "good" cooties." He forms into fingers into quotation marks and I draw away from him. We're both apparent to how this must look to on goers, aka our friends.

I lean into the railing again, raising my fingers to my lips, "Alright, so, spill Peralta. You couldn't have come over here just to be with me."

He shakes his head, "Nah. Well, that's a lie. I did come over here to be with you, but I guess I do have an alterior motive."

"And the truth comes out," I chuckle, bumping into him playfully, "And that motive would be?"

His face gets serious and he stares out into the sunset, "Why didn't you tell us about your dad? That he wanted you to come home. That you _are _going home with him?"

I knew that was coming, there's no way around it, so I might as well come out and say it. "I don't know…because I didn't want to get too attached. Because I knew if I told you guys, it'd just make it harder to deal with than it is already. And I might not be going home with him. La- Mom and Dad can take him to court, and if we win, I get to stay with them." I explain, but the truth is leering in the air. The side unspoken still lingers in the air, making it quite awkward.

Stacy only nods; I think that's all he can do.

I try to lighten the mood, but, knowing me, I'll end up saying the wrong thing, and make Stacy even more uncomfortable, "Why did you kiss me last night?"

I can feel Stacy tense up, despite the small space between us. He doesn't respond and I know I said the wrong thing, again. I have a horrible habit of doing that.

His teeth collapse over his lower lip, contemplating a few seconds longer, like he's looking for the perfect answer. I'm no longer looking at him, but instead our shadows. His shadow shrugs, and he answers simply, "Because I wanted to."

My face falls at that moment. Why did it? It should have been the right answer, and it was, but why didn't I see it? This should have made me jump out of my skin with joy, the boy I have feelings for has the same feelings for me; this should have been the part where we kiss; the fairy tale ending every girl dreams about. But it wasn't. Guilt wells up inside me. I'm a horrible person. All my thoughts trace back to the night I first began cutting myself, the night of Tony's party. I haven't even told Tony about that night, and he thinks I have. He doesn't know about my self inflicted wounds. I shake my head, fighting back tears, "No. No, you didn't." My voice calls out, softer than usual, with a slight quiver to it. "You didn't want to kiss me." I mutter one last time.

"W-what are you talking about? Of course I wanted to-"

"No! You didn't." I scream in a hoarse voice, "You don't understand, Stace. You didn't wanna kiss me, you didn't want to. You don't want to feel this way about me; you don't want me to feel this way about you."

Stacy's features take on a truly hurt look and he tries to capture my hands in his. He succeeds for a few moments, gently rubbing his thumb against my hand, trying to calm me down. He presses his forehead against mine, "Yes, I do. I want all of that."

I jerk back from him, tears I can no longer restrict drip down my face, "No, you don't. Stacy, you don't get it! I'm a horrible person, I'm broken."

He sighs, trying to get me closer to him. I know he just wants to help, I know he just wants to tell me I'm not any of those things, but he just doesn't understand. Tyler must have seen us, as he comes rushing behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders, "C'mon, Sabree, we gotta get home." He says, before pushing me in the direction of our house.

I think Stacy is the only one capable of making me breakdown so easily. I'm a very emotionally stable person. Mia and Larry had worried glances as Tyler ushers me upstairs, questions of if I was okay rising. Tyler hangs over the railing to inform our parents that I'd be okay, before he comes up again to attend to me.

My eyes burn from the tears, but new tears just add to the pain. He gingerly shuts the door behind him. I don't look at him. He doesn't try to say anything. He doesn't need to. I can tell in the way he carries himself, he knows. About everything. He takes a seat next to me, rubbing my back.

It's been an hour, and my tear flow starts to let up. Tyler paces around my room now, hands behind his back, brows furrowed in deep thoughts. It seems like ages before he speaks.

"Sabree, let me see your arm." I knew it. I knew what was coming. But my best bet right now is to play dumb. . .

"My—My arm?" I stutter, rubbing my upper arm. I've said it a million times, but I knew he knew about my arms. But how did he find out? I've only told Sid. . and Sid's the loyal type. The type that wouldn't tell a secret, even if his life was being threatened.

"Tyler, my arm is fine."

He sends me a bone chilling glare, "Then why won't you let me see it.

Damn. "Why won't you believe me when I say it's fine!?" Just give up Sabree. He knows, you know he knows. My augments are pointless at this time.

"If it is fine, then there shouldn't be a problem with you showing me." The tone of his voice was weak from arguing with me. He grabs my arm gently, forcing up my sleeves, reveling torn up flesh. This isn't how I wanted him to find out. I wanted him to hear it from me. I expect him to yell and scream at me; tell me how stupid I already know I am. Instead, his fingers brush over the ragged cuts.

The both of us sat there in silence, not daring to speak. By this time, my eyes sting like hell from crying so much, and all I really want to do is go to sleep and forget today ever happened. But I know I can't do that. Life's not so easy as just to go to bed and forget about all the bad things that happened in your life, wishing so badly for them to go away. I hear Larry's voice from down stairs, for both me and Ty.


	8. Ty's Spidey sense must be tingling

**Tyler's POV**

There my parents were, sitting side by side in the cloud white chair, in their rightful place. My mothers hand interlocks with my dads. This can't be good. Nothing is ever good when my parents sit like this. My dad sucks in a breath, removes his glasses, polishes them on his shirt, and pushes them back on his nose before my mother spoke, "Well…we spoke to Paula again today. And, we have good news and bad news."

I spot Sabree out of the corner of my eye, she pales up in an instant. I reach out for her hand, giving it a light squeeze. My father hesitates before he continues.

"The good news," my father begins, "is that we have scheduled a court date."

Sabree's shoulders slump forward as she releases the breath she's been holding in. I look at my parents, tilting my head to the side. They let the good news absorb into our brains.

"But, the bad news is that if Rick, that's Sabree's father, pays the child support he's been issued before the court date, in two weeks, that terminates that court date. . . and he gets to take Sabree home with him."

I feel my face flush with anger, and Sabree flees the scene. "That's bullshit. That is so unbelievably fucked up!" My anger gets the better off me, it usually does. My mother gives me a surprised look. Her precious Tyler would never speak to her in such a way.

My father is outraged by my language. "Tyler James! Do_** not **_raise your voice to your mother, or me! Do you understand that? I know you're upset about this but -"

"Upset? You're damn right I'm upset about this!"

"But, there is nothing your mother, Paula, or I can do about it. Believe me, if there was something more we could do, we would do it," My father explains, calming down slightly. He rubs his temples, removing his glasses as he looks up at me.

I keep my angry gaze on my parents, before I shake my head and run out after Sabree.

….

"Sabree?" I called, the nights' silence my response. Damn it, where could she be? I had checked all of her obvious hide outs. She wasn't there. C'mon Sabe…where are you? I think to myself, placing my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

The words she'd thrown at Stacy earlier rung in my ear. She called herself broken. Broken? No, not Sabree. She's stronger than any person I've known, even after all the unlucky hands she's been dealt.

I'm a dead man for what I had said back at home, for just running off like that. Fuck it, though. I don't care, this is Sabree we're talking about.

It's unfair how the world works sometimes. You could say that I've grown attached to Sabree, but that would be an understatement. Sabree's become more than just some kid to me. She's family to me now. I trust her more than I trust Stacy, Sid, Jay or Tony. Hell, I even trust her more than my own parents. She can't be ripped away from us so easily. She's happy here. She's finally in a good environment.

I groan tiredly, my search has got to be useless. After all the times Sabree's run off, you would think I'd learn to stay put, and let her come to me. I stretch, locking my fingers behind my head as I start heading back home, my hopes of her coming back soon high.

**Sabree's POV**

My arms fold across my body, to barricade myself from the slight chilling breeze. This is California. . .it shouldn't be _this _cold at night.

I figure I put a fair distance between our house, considering I'm all the way by Jay's apartment. I can hear music, Jimi Hendrix, to be specific, boom from outside the decaying apartment complex. It's one o' clock in the morning. He must be having a party, I can smell the alcohol from here. I shake my head, passing his rowdy sounding apartment.

Tyler didn't follow after me. Okay, maybe he did. In fact, I'm more than positive he did. His Spidey senses must have started tingling right after I bolted from our house. But, assuming he has gone out of his way to find me, he's doing a terrible job of it. Poor Tyler. He must get tired of chasing after me when I up and leave, all sorts of pissed off.

I'm not so much pissed as I am. . .upset. I always knew my father would come after me. But I didn't realize how. . .easily he could. I never thought it was so simple to get ripped away from a good life. Damn it.

I take a look around once more, taking in my surroundings. I close my eyes, and wonder of into a randomly picked direction.

….

I need a better sense of direction. I've been wandering around for about an hour or so and I think I'm lost. I bit down on my lower lip, smoothing down my hair with my hand. I'm pathetic. I'm lost, cold, and I could be going back to my dads for good.

These past eight months have been a blur to me. A blur with some good parts, some bad. Thankfully, my share of good times outweighs the bad since moving in with Tyler. But, I know worse has yet to come. If I know my father, he will get that money. I don't know how he does it, but every time I think I'm safe, every time I think I won't ever have to go back to him again, he finds away to pull me back.

Being taken back by my father was the furthest thing from my mind at the moment, yet it managed to push its way past its way all my other thoughts, and loiter around in the front of my mind. I close my eyes, and lean against the wall behind me trying to push the thought away.

The thoughts of my dad are erased and replaced by thoughts of Stacy and what had almost happened. What would have happened if I hadn't have freaked out on him. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I know that Stacy is completely serious about what he said, about how he feels and I'm a fool for trying to convince myself otherwise.

If I would have just listened to him and push my thoughts aside, maybe we would have kissed. I sigh, flustered with myself. The nights quite, other than the occasional group of drunks, and crickets chirping.

This went on for a while, the silence is enough to kill me. It was just so loud. That doesn't make any sense, I know, but it's true. Maybe I really have gone crazy, as now silence is loud to me, and I swear that I hear skateboard wheels faintly approach me. I try to shake the feeling away, but I hear the wheels again.

I shift my weight onto both feet and drift away from the wall, listening as the wheels get louder. I still see no one, until my name is called out from behind me. I jump, obviously startled. The voice that called my name chuckles, and I hear foots steps behind me.

"So, tell me, Sabree," I feel a hand clasp over my shoulder, "what the hell are you doing out here so late at night, chicka?"

There is only one guy that calls me, only would guy I allow to call me, chicka. And that's Tony Alva. The one Z-boy I befriended the quickest. I don't know if it was the fact that I smoked, drank, or did whatever I did, but we just clicked.

I fall back against the wall. There's no use lying to him. He was going to find out eventually. Then I remember the party, how Stacy thinks I told him. I might as well. I draw in a breath, "Alright, Tony, I have a lot to tell you, so shut up and listen." I exhaled slowly, and told him all about my dad, and how he could take me back if he paid child support within two weeks, about the party.

He stands, trying to take everything in. About my dad, I mean. He shakes his head and laughs, "The party? Shit, man, I already knew about that."

"W-wait…what? You already knew about that?!" I snap, fighting back the urge to strangle him.

He just nods, "Yeah, I didn't wanna say nothin'."

I bite my tongue, "Okay, so say I didn't remember the party, would you have told me?"

He shrugs, rolling his skateboard back and forth underneath his foot, "Maybe," he shoves his hands deep in his pockets, "I don't know if pissing Stacy off would be worth it. For either reason."

I have to agree with him. Stacy, even though you can barely tell, doesn't de-wait, either reason? My head falls to the side, "…What do you mean 'either reason'?"

"Even if we weren't trashed, I woulda tried to kiss you, anyway. But, forget it now. Anyways, are you, like, okay? You had one hell of a break down the other night. Jayboy even asked if you were okay."

"Ha, right. I have a hard time believing that Jay Adams asked if I was alright. We can hardly stand each other."

"Believe what you wanna believe, chicka," He insists and I fiddle absent mindedly with my hair. Tony's hand flies out to grab my own, yanking my wrist close to his body. Shit. My cuts. I didn't think I was going anywhere, I didn't grab a sweater.

"Sabree….what the fuck?" he looks at me in a stern manner, gesturing to the five cuts presenting themselves almost proudly on my wrist. I try to jerk my wrist back, but Tony's strength over powers my own.

I can't lie my way out this situation, either. Tonight is just not my night. With a heavy sigh Tony's grip lets up. I'm able to slip my wrist away from him, letting if fall limp to my side. I push my bangs back using both hands, "Look, Tony…"

"But you can **not **tell Stace," He remains quiet, staring down the ground, taking in the story. I pretty much confessed the story of my life to Tony Alva, within twenty minutes.

"Alright chicka. . but you'd best be tellin' Stace yourself."

I nod, "I'll tell him. . .but when the times right."

He shakes his head, unsure of his next actions. He gets ready to leave, but I stop him. I'm lost and I need to get back to the house.

"Um, I'm kind of lost, so…"

He looks back at me and mocks me with laughter, "C'mon."

…

**Stacy's POV**

It's been almost a week, and we haven't heard anything from Tyler or Sabree. We take this to be a sign of better things to come. We all crowd Tyler's living room, waiting on Sabree to come out.

"Sabree, come on!" Tyler pounds on the door, trying his best to force Sabree out of the bathroom. Sabree responds with a 'Fuck you, Tyler' or she throws a foreign object at him. It's actually very funny to see the way those two bicker. Granted that Tyler always walks away, very frightened by Sabree's sharp tongue and quick temper. She used those well in combination.

I laugh silently and shake some blonde hair out of my face. Tyler, by now, is very flustered with Sabree, as he stalks away from the door. "Alright, Peralta. You're up. You try to get her out of there. She's just in a skirt for God sakes."

A thunk sounds behind the door, "You try wearing band-aid sized skirt and see how comfortable you feel in it!" I exhale and approach the door.

Things weren't quite the same between Sabree and I since her break down last week. It was still awkward, to be honest. I softly rap at the door with my knuckle, "Come on, Sabe. I'm sure you look alright." I hear a stamp of her foot, a sign she's given in, and smile lightly to myself.

Within seconds, she scuttles out, with a pouty look on her face. "Why do I listen to you?" she jokes, hitting my stomach gently. Dressed in a white, and, yes, band-aid sized mini skirt, and a black zip-up jacket, she looks good. Well, to me, she always looks good no matter what, but today, I think that even Jay would agree.

"Now, why do you listen to Stacy, and not me?" Tyler asks, curious as to why Sabree yelled and threw things at him, but came right out when I asked.

"'Cause Stacy didn't try getting me out. He complimented me, and that always racks up good karma points on a girl. Really, you should take some lessons from Stacy here."

Tyler huffs, rolling his eyes.

….

Damn it…Sabree's not back yet. What could be so damn important that it has to take Mia and Larry this long to tell her? I catch myself thinking, tapping my fingers on the edge of the pool, as the rest of the guys skate around. I can't move around like that when I'm this deep in thought. I'm more the certain that they're all as anxious as I am for Sabree to come back.

The sandals she wore today let me know she was approaching from behind. I stood up, brushed myself off, and turned in her general direction. She doesn't look so good…

**Sabree's POV**

As always, Stacy is the first to greet me. Normally, I'm more than happy to see him but today, just the sight of him broke my heart. Well, added to the breaking, anyway. Damn, damn, damn. The heart broken feeling inside of me slowly wells to a strong hatred for not just Stacy, but the other Dogtown skaters. I hate them because I knew that they just make this harder than it already is. I hate them because we've become such a close group, and they've all become brothers to me. Yes, even stupid obnoxious Jay Adams. Okay, okay. It's not them I hate. It's not their fault. It's mine, for becoming so damn attached to them.

I quickly wipe away the tears with the palm of my hand and fake a smile. This is the first time in a long while I've had to put on a charade and make every body believe I'm as happy as ever.

"Sabree. Finally," he sees through my plastic smile, as usual. He reaches out to brush my cheek with his fingertips, as his face falls with concern, "Sabe, what's wrong?"

My eyes close, and I take the feel of his hand against my skin, "I just came to say bye." I stutter, fighting back salty tears, "My dad got the money, guys. I'm going back home." Everyone's crowded around Stacy and I, with looks of disappointment. "But, I don't have to roll my own joints anymore. That's a plus." How morbid of me to be cracking a joke at a time like this.

I see Tyler, anger welling up inside him. Tyler's not the type to blow up in front of everyone in their dog, he's always in control of his anger. He kicks the ground and storms off.

"Tyler!" Sid shouts. Watching Tyler walk away like that. . .my heart broke in half. He seems more upset about this than I am.

Unaware of my own actions, I collapse into Stacy's chest, silent tears creating a river down my face. I feel his arms enclose around me, his warmth. I need that. After everything that's happened. I'm not embarrassed to admit it, for once. I need Stace, right now. And I need Tyler, and Tony and Sid, and. . . Jay. It baffles me though. How could he sit here and comfort me?

After everything I've put him through. All the secrets left untold. All the things he's eventually going to find out about me. But still, here he is, Stacy Peralta, giving everything he has to still see me in the same light.

"Go see if Tyler's okay," is the last thing he says before resting his chin atop my head.

**Stacy's POV**

I knew it. I expected this. What I didn't expect though was for Sabree to fall into my chest, asking for comfort. Instead of pushing us all away like she would normally do. It's. . .surreal to see Sabree in this state.

I want to kiss her. A real kiss, not an uncertain peck on the cheek. I want to kiss her so bad. Tony would have. But, that's Tony we're talking about. Hell, even Sid, of all people would kiss her. I can't though, it'd feel like I was taking advantage of her. I couldn't stand to feel like that.

So I'll stand here until the time is right, giving her all the time she needs to cry, vent, whatever she needs to do to be okay. The moments seemed to past like a year by the time she had pulled away, and looked up at me with a tear stained face.

"I have to get home and pack."

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	9. A cross between a brood and a pout

**Sabree POV**

_The first night back…_I think, sitting angrily in the haze of smoke emitting from my dad's and Karen's joints. They're stupid. Thinking they could fool me with their, 'Welcome home, baby, we sure missed you. Things are going to be different now' dinner. Different my ass. If things we're going to be different, they wouldn't be stoned out of their fucking minds right now. I take a deep breath, choking on the amount of weed-smoke clouding the air, thinking back to earlier.

_I sat silently, bitterly watching my idiot parents coo back and forth to each other about how great it was to have me home. The salad on my plate remained untouched., I only stabbed at the lettuce leaves to shuffle them around my plate to make it look like I had eaten something. I was brooding. I was in a brooding mood, but you'd be in a brooding mood, to, if you were unfairly pulled from happiness to be sucked back into hell with your drunk excuse for a father._

"_Oh, Sabe, it's so nice to have you home!" Karen cooed, a certain cheapness just dripping from her voice. She reaches a bony hand out to caress my arm._

_I jerked away, calling her a hussy under my breath. She must have caught it._

_Her face fell into fake puppy dog eyes and she glanced at my father. Just watching her made my stomach churn in ways I didn't know was possible. My father shot me a glare, but went on with his dinner._

_Something had apparently happened while I was gone, because the apartment was slightly bigger and neater than I remember. I start to think that maybe my dad had gone to work or something big of that sorts, but then I remembered that that was the old Rick. The Rick that actually __loved __his daughter. The Rick that didn't beat his daughter senseless for no reason._

That charade was over now. Things had turned as I expected them to be, my dad and Karen had doubled over in laughter because the stupid clock ticked. I hate this.

"Sabe, baby, c'mon. What, you're too good to smoke up with your old man now, eh?"My father crawls over to me, puffing on his joint right in my face.

"I'm sorry, "dad", but I can't talk right now. I'm too busy hating you But try again later." I spit, forcing him away from me. He just chuckles and crawls his way back over to me. He puts a hand on me knee, and slides his hand up to my thigh. I haven't had a chance to change yet. But damn, I wish I did. "Get the fuck away from me!" I scream, shoving my foot in his face.

He shakes his head, trapping my wrist in his hand, "C'mon, sweetheart, I just wanna catch up a bit. I haven't seen you in forever." He grins a twisted grin, pulling the joint from his mouth. He inhales until the tip of the joint glows red, and stamps the lit end into my arm.

I wince, biting back howls of pain as he repeats this action, two, three more times.

…

An hour later, and I'm still stuck in the same fucking place, nursing the burn wounds on my arm. Injury count for the night: four. The three wound marks, and a black eye. For once, though, I wasn't the subject of my fathers anger. Drugs does funky shit to people, I'm not going to lie. Tonight, the drugs had chosen to make my parents engage in a fist fight. I'd had tried breaking it up.

My effort resulted in my fathers elbow banging into my eye as he went to take a swing at Karen, and it sent my flying back into the wall. The impact was hard enough to add a nice concussion to that list. I pull myself out of the chair, and tip toe into the bedroom to see if they were still at it. Eventually, they're fight had shifted into their room.

As I expected, they were collapsed on top of each other, empty beer bottles littering the linoleum floor. The both of them combined have enough alcohol in their system to keep them passed out for the next decade. I'm not sticking around for this.

I haven't even been home for a full day, yet I have a full days beating. I slip out of the front door with as little hassle as possible. Yes, I know, I could get caught. Yes, I know my parents could wake up at any second now. But I say fuck it. I'll get the same beating for something else if I don't get it from getting caught leaving my house.

oo

The new apartment is pretty far away from any of the boys' houses and I know I'm bound to get lost again. But it's all worth it to be out for just a few hours. I just wish I was closer to Stacy's house…

I sigh. Really, this is the only place close enough? I take a deep breath and rap on the door.

**Jay's POV**

"Jay, baby, go see whose at the door!" My mom laughs, carrying around a bottle of booze in her hand. It's a habit of hers to wobble around the apartment in a drunken state.

I shove one hand in my pocket and open the door. On my door step is the last person I expect to see other or anywhere near my house.

"I'm sorry. I don't even know what I'm doing here. It's just. . .this was the only place close enough." Sabree stammers, looking like she had purposely come to the wrong place.

"JB, who's your friend?" My mom asks, setting her chin on my shoulder as she hugs me from behind. She's as extra drunk tonight. Another fight with Donnie means another shot of vodka.

I sit there and look at Sabree for a few minutes, "Sabree," I mutter under my breath, pulling her into our dim lit apartment.

…

The silence was kind of irritating at first, but we got over it. I stare intently as Sabree pulls back her blonde hair to show me her newest battle scar. I wince a bit, "Shit, man." Not even I get that fucked up when I'm messin' around.

She nodded slowly, then pulled up her black sweater sleeve to show me the burn marks. Right over the cut marks. I'd finally convinced Sid to tell me what was up with Sabree. Sid tells me everything, anyways.

It's a good thing I look out for him, I guess. Curiosity got the better of me, but I'm always in other peoples' shit. I look at my mom, who was on her third round for the night. "Mom," I reach out to grab my moms think wrist, "Sabree" I say and my mom goes onto introduce herself.

"Philane Adams." She shakes Sabree's hand then stalks off again. I shake my head.

"Yeah. .she ain't much. But she's all I got."

She shrugs, "At least she tries, dude."

Damn it, she's right. Maybe it's just because I'm stubborn as a fuckin mule, but I hate it when people are right. Especially Sabree. I know it's because we don't get along. I change subject. Talking about my mom is a touchy subject for me sometimes. 'She's crazy, Jay.' Donny's smug face pops into mind. She's only crazy because of you, you bastard.

"So, what's going with you and Peralta?" I ask, and stare at her. Her face goes red. I grin my stupid grin because I know I embarrassed her. Damn I really am a jackass, but whatever. "C'mon, I've seen the way the dude looks at you."

"Fuck you, Adams!" She snaps, trying her best to bite back a smile. "And, if you must know, we always get close to kissing and I freak out or something or some_body _interrupts us." She puts an emphasis on 'body' and violently shoves me off my mattress.

"Hey! Be nice to the jackass who's letting you stay here for the night!" I get ready to shove her back and she laughs, climbing off the mattress before I get a chance to retaliate..

"I'm sorry, are we actually having a conversation?" She asks, shielding her face from the pillow I've thrown at her.

I chuckle a bit, "Well fuck me hard and call me Jay, we are. That dumbass Tyler was right. Fuck him, then."

Instead of chucking the pillow at me, like I half expected her to, she tucks it under her chin, wrapping her arms around it, "I hate it when he's right."

"Yeah, tell me about it…the fucker. And, I guess you're okay…" I trail off in a joking manner, and she gasps in fake shock.

"Was that an almost compliment from Jay Adams?"

I smirk, running a hand through my hair, "Yep. Well, it's late and you're kinda beat up so just take my bed for tonight and I sleep on the couch."

"But Jay-" she tries to argue against my offer.

"Hey…shut up before I change my mind."

…

"Foster girl, ya little maggot, get up!" I say, softly placing my foot on her side, giving her a good shake.

She groans, hugging the pillow closer to her chest before she reaches out and strikes me with it. "Fuck off, Adams." She spat, sitting up slowly, shoving me over as she did.

"Jesus you're violent for a chick."

She shrugs my comment off, piling my blankets onto the mattress, "We have to stop at my apartment so I can get changed."

My brows furrow in confusion, "But I thought you _wanted _to get away from your folks…won't they, you know, catch you or whatever?"

"Nah, they're both piss drunk and they'll probably stay that way for, like, the next week."

"Whatever."

…

Her apartment complex isn't far from mine. It probably just seems that way at two o clock in the morning.

"Stay out here and if I say run, then run." She orders before she pushes the door to her apartment open, the floor boards creaking as she takes her first step in.

With a shrug, I lean against the wall, shoving both hands deep in my pockets. I won't be out here for long, for a chick, she gets ready pretty fast. With Kathy, it's like I gotta wait a fuckin' decade for her to be ready. And when I tell her to hurry up, she throws a bitch fit.

"Okay, so, where we going?" she asks, pulling the hood of her black zip-up jacket over her head, hiding her hands in the pockets.

"Zephyr." She walks in front of me, and I give her a light push.

This is weird, being with Sabree, actually _talking _to her, not arguing. She has to feel as slightly disturbed as I am. Just a few weeks ago we couldn't bare to be in the same room as each other, but now we're acting like we've been friends for years.

**Sabree's POV**

"Chicka!" Tony laughs, drawing me into a bear hug with his buff, Mexican arms.

"Tony!" I laugh, mocking him in a way, returning his hug. But my hugs are no match for the likes of Tony Alva. Yeah, I guess I'm pretty damn happy to see the fur ball.

"Stace, do you see what I see?" Tyler gapes. I'm assuming he's gaping at the fact that I, Sabree Thomas, was walking with Jay Adams. _Surprise, Surprise. _I think looking over at Jay.

"Yeah…she just showed up at my place last night."

They all take turns gawking. I sigh. Okay, maybe this was an odd sight to see, me and Jay walking together, not arguing but I don't think the situation needs this much attention. It's annoying. I pull of the hood of my jacket, and shake my ash blonde hair away from my face to show them my blow to the forehead. Their looks of awe turn to looks of devastation.

Maybe I have a twisted sense of humor, but I love freaking them out like this. At least it gets them to shut up about me and Jay.

"No, no, you guys this one was an accident. See, I was trying to break up this fight between my dad and his girlfriend. He was going to hit her, I tried to stop him but his elbow hit me and sent me flying into the wall. So, it's okay. The concussion is already going away."

Tyler pales a little and I stifle a few chuckles, "Ty, man, I was kidding about the concussion dude." So, I lied it's not like he _has _to know I really do have a concussion.

He looks pissed off beyond all reason but only for about five seconds. Tyler can't stay mad at me. "Anyway, how'd you get out? Won't your dad know you're gone? Are you okay?" The questions just keep coming and I have to smack him on the arm to get him to shut the hell up.

"Snuck out, no he's drunk enough to be passed out for fuckin' year, and yes I'm okay. Stop worrying! I mean, damn! It's great that you're concerned but, Jesus, just chill, dude!"

He throws his arms above his head. "I give up!" He cries. Good, he knows when to stop before I have to make him. He's a smart kid. Smarter than the foster kids who try to fuck with me.

"Okay so are we going to skate or what?"

…

In all the buzz about me being okay and all that good stuff, Stace and I barley had a chance to talk, which is what I assume we're doing now. The walk is silent, other than my occasional playful bumping into him. He even went so far as to put his arm around my shoulders to pull me closer to him. We walk down to his car.

I pull myself on the hood of his car, but he leans against the bumper, watching as the sun slowly sets. I like being around him as the sun sets. It mellows the mood out, eases the tension for the both of us.

He sighs, putting on that 'Stacy' look of his. It's a good cross between a brood and a pout. Nothing good ever comes from that look, it only shows up when he's _really _upset by something, i.e. me in this case. "Why didn't you tell me that you cut yourself? More importantly, why would you do something like that to yourself? Do you even realize how stupid that is? Hurting yourself like that?"

I don't answer right away but keep my gaze focused on the gravel in front of me instead. He always gets irritated when I don't answer important questions like this. But, how did he find out? He hasn't even seen my wrist since I started. No bodies told him as far I know.

He folds his arms across his chest and stalks away from his car, a familiar cold fire burning in his perfect baby blue eyes. I look down at my hands neatly folded in my lap and bite my lower lip. If anybody deserved to know what I was doing to myself its Stacy. He should have been the first one I told…

"Stacy!"I jump off his car and jog after him. "Stacy, please, just listen. I'm sorry….I was going to tell you. Just when the time was right."

"There is never going to be a right time to tell me something like that Sabree! You're hurting yourself and I can't do a damn thing about it because I don't even know that you're doing it! I would have thought that I would have been the first person you told…" He trails off, trying his best to remain collected. But the look in his eyes says something else. He's right…he's absolutely right. I'm at a loss for words because there's nothing I can say to make not telling him right. I fold my arms across my chest, and look down at my feet, swallowing a rising lump in my throat. _What are you doing?! Say something to him, you stupid bitch! Stacy is great for you so just get over it and say something! _The tiny voice, which has a name, I've come to find out, screams, pounding the warning into my brain over and over and over again.

"B-but, how did you find out?" I ask, meekly. Like a question like that matters at this point in time. This whole situation I've gotten myself into spurs emotions that I didn't even know I had in me. But also, sparks some familiar emotions. Emotions of desertion. I've only felt that emotion one other time in my life, when my mother had taken my sister and left me with my father. Emotions of love, I also felt that once. But look how that turned out, the signs of affection replaced by black and blue bruises. Stacy wouldn't do that though. The urge to cry is enough to bring me to my knees by now.

My reason for crying wouldn't exactly be found right away. I'd be crying over being taken back to my dad's, over possibly losing Stacy. Or _not _losing Stacy, and knowing that he loves me enough to stick by me no matter how badly I fuck up, or how _fucked _up my father makes me.

It's him who doesn't answer this time. Things have gone from bad to worse with five seconds time. I do lose Stacy, there's no doubt that I deserve to. Stacy Peralta, whose never done anything for his selfish needs, or hurt another person in his life, needs someone who won't hide something like this from him. I don't deserve Stacy Peralta. Not one bit.

Game over. I shake my head, disappointed in myself and stalk away from Stacy. He's done with me, no second chances. Just done. But, as always, he proves me wrong with his next action. He stops, peering into my eyes before he places his hands on either side of my face. I gulp. Normally I'm not aware of how. . .short I am. But in the presence of six foot something Stacy Peralta. . . well, he makes me feel shorter than I really am.

Without hesitation, he kisses me, his lips gentle and warm against mine. The kiss was short. . .but meaningful . He gives me a half smile, laying his forehead against mine.

"Stacy…," I breath, "My life has been a wreck since I was eight year old. I've been let down by pretty much everyone. I'm more fucked up then you know."

He licked his lips, nodding slowly, keeping his hands placed on either side of my face, "I know. I know Sabe. I don't plan to add my name to that list. I care about you, Sabree. A lot. And you are the last person I want to let down."

I don't know what it is about Stacy. I don't know how he can commit himself to be so loyal. But, no matter how he does it, I'm grateful for it.

We kiss one more time. The kiss was long and by no means a kiss by some guy looking to get some. Stacy could never be like that.. It was a sentimental kiss with a lot of meaning behind it. Meaning only Stacy Peralta seemed to know.

When we parted, he wrapped his hands around my own, entwining our fingers, "I don't wanna go back there Stace…" I breathed out, falling into his chest, as I'd done yesterday.

It pained him to say this, but it was practically inevitable, "You have to, Sabree."

It hurt but the truth was the truth. Sometimes the truth just wasn't pretty, that was proven by the fact that the choice to go back was no longer my own. If I had a choice, it would be to stay with Tyler's family, which have in some odd, yet touching, way had become my own, stay here with the boys, who have become my brothers. Jay Adams now included. The thought hadn't settled easily for either of us, after almost a year of sniping at each other but it was another one of those inevitable truths of the world.

"I know…but not yet."

Stacy jumped at this comment, drawing away from me. I wanted nothing more than to make him come back to me, but judging by the expression on his face, he had a rather brilliant idea, "My parents are at some real estate conference in San Diego, so I'm by myself for the rest of the week. Stay with me tonight."

As wonderful as that would be, the way that came out just hadn't sounded right. People, mainly our dumbass friends, would assume the worst. He blushed, shaking his head.

"That came out wrong. Just…stay with me before you have to go back. Nothing's going to happen." He promises me. I believe him. I believe him simply because I know he would never lie to me.

So we left the Zephyr shop without explanation .Our escape was unnoticed and quite ninja-like, if I do say so myself, and I steadied myself in the arms of the boy who never will never ask me to be what he needs, but will let me exist as I am.

Flashbacks of the day played in my mind; he leaned over and kissed me and kissed him back. Then our eyes met and it was like we just knew. So we smiled and kissed again--it was perfect.


	10. You're insane, you know that?

**Stacy's POV**

I woke up half expecting Sabree's hair to be blinding me as it had been when we fell asleep last night. I swear, I had meant to get Sabree into her own bedroom, her own bed, instead of out here, on a lumpy couch. We just got caught up in. . .talking. In fact, I expected Sabree to be propped up against me.

Instead I can't find her. "Sabree?" I call, peeking into the kitchen. Sure enough, there she was. Standing on tip toe on a chair, trying to remove something from the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. From my stand point, it looks like a box of pancake batter, but whatever she was trying to retrieve was the least of my worries. Sabree wasn't a complete klutz, but she has her moments.

Take now, for example. The was starting to wobble and if things went the way I envisioned them, she'd topple of the chair any second now. I sigh, approaching her quietly, as not to add insult to injury, and slip my arm around her waist to brace her back. My other arm slides under her legs.

"Do you really want to hurt yourself more than you already have?" I laugh, taking a step back from the chair. Last night was great night for Sabree's klutzy nature. Last night, she'd been leaning against the car door and fell right out when I opened it for her. And then, she smacked herself straight into my door before I'd gotten a chance to unlock it.

"Now," she pauses, poking an accusing finger into my chest, "before you go and make fun of my shortness, you should know to blame genetics." She says simply. The box of pancake mix comes clattering down, giving Sabree quite the scare. She slides herself out of my arms and kicks the box over to my stove.

I shake my head, watching as she flees from my grasp. "I didn't know you could cook."

"Well…there's a lot of things you don't know about me. Like," she says, in a very matter of fact-ly tone, "Up until…well, today. To the age of sixteen and half, I'm afraid of ducks. And garden gnomes."

Ducks? Garden gnomes? I'm not sure if I _want _to know the story behind that. I know I shoudn't laugh, cause its just rude. But her admitting her childhood fears to me was just so cute. It just made her glow.

"And my cooking skills are limited to pancakes and cereal." She shakes her head in disappointment before dragging the chair she'd been standing on to the table to sit down. I follow suit, pulling out a chair next to her, watching as she combed her fingers through her hair, nonchalantly.

"So tell me more about Stacy Peralta. Your parents must be so proud to have such a well behaved kid like you."

The subject of my parents. . . no one really asks me about them, so I never know what to say. There wasn't much to tell anyways, other than the fact that the both of them are real estate agents and gone all the time.

"Well, my mom is always gone selling a house in some other part of California, my dad usually goes with her. He likes to drink. . more than he should. They don't care too much for my skateboarding." I finish and look up at her. I must have hit a nerve with talking about my dad. She's all fidgety, playing her with hair and face.

"Yeah. I've been down that road. Stace, you're a good kid, and you've got nothing to complain about."

Once she let her hands fall, I capture them in my own, gently rubbing my thumb on the top of her hand. I look at her very seriously and make sure her eyes were locked onto mine, "No one deserves what you have to go through, Sabree. I swear I'm going to do everything in my power to protect you."

My promise gets a little smile out of her before she goes into another confession, "Stace…I'm sorry for that day at the beach. For freaking out and screaming at you when you told you had wanted to kiss me. I just assumed that you couldn't possibly be in love with a broken person. Let's face it, Stacy, you're perfect and you deserve someone perfect."

I sigh. How can I possibly get through to her? How can I make her realize that perfection is the last thing I'm looking for? She's so difficult at times. Explaining this to her was not going to be easy without making it sound like I didn't care about her at all, but I suppose I have to take a stab at it…

"Sabree, look, I don't...I don't care about perfection. I don't care about what goes on at home...I care about you. And I promise, I'm going to do everything I can to protect you."

She remains silent. I don't think Sabree knows how to reply to something like this. I don't think she's heard it before.

But the sparkle in her eye gave off the sign that she knows I'm speaking honestly from my heart. She only smiles and places kiss on my forehead, "Thanks kid…I'm just gonna take a shower real quick like."

….

As the day wore on, the fact that Sabree had to go home today sunk itself deeper and deeper into my mind. I don't want her to go home. I don't want her to get another beating she doesn't deserve . I guess I let my feelings get the best of me today. I can feel myself voluntarily withdrawing myself from today's activities

Tony's wiped out the most so far, which rarely ever happens so I'm getting a good kick out of watching it. There were a few instances were Sabree shoved him off his board and vice versa when she was trying to rip. But what caught my attention even more was her and Jay. The shock of them actually getting along still hasn't rubbed off on me, or anyone one of us for that matter. I suppose their useless and slightly angry banter had just become apart of out everyday routine.

"Karen she couldn't have gone that far…she's sixteen for god sakes. It's not like she can drive out of fuckin' Santa Monica!"

I heard Rick's voice in the background, and an instant fear that Sabree hadn't heard it herself filled my whole body. I was put in a situation were I couldn't exactly tell her that her father was looking for her without giving her position away. To my knowledge, her dad didn't pay much attention to us when he found her that one day so I figured that she was home free as long as she stayed hidden.

He was getting closer, I could hear his footsteps. At the last minute I saw Sabree completely submerge herself underwater.

"Hey, you're one of the boys' that was hanging out with Sabree," My pulse tripled when he spoke. This was an instant were I could easily admit that I was wrong. "So, have you seen her?"

I'd really hoped that he wouldn't recognize me, but there was no way out of this, "No, haven't seen her around lately."

He only smirked. He saw right through me as he continued to stare me down, "Sure you haven't. But if you do happen to see her, stay the fuck away from my daughter. You understand me?" he spoke in a warning tone.

I was expecting the slightly cliché, or else what? I want so bad to say it. I try to summon the words from my mind to my mouth, but nothing. Rick smirks, locking a threatening eye on me as he walked away.

I wait until I can no longer see him before I turn around, Sabree's head blonde head bobs up from behind Tony's toned shoulder. "Damn, chicka that was a close one. You're fucking insane, you know that?" I heard Tony say while Sabree made her way to shore.

"I gotta go. Like, now." She stutters, swimming to the shore.

"Well, let me drive you," I intervene. Sabree walking home while her dad had the streets on lock down for her frightens me.

"No. Its fine, I know a short cut. I'll be okay."

….

**Sabree's POV**

Damn my luck. I swear, they we're out cold. I struggle to pull the apartment key from my pocket.

The size of this apartment still threw me off. Our old apartment was a bungalow compared to this. . .

I don't hear the tv droning, or Karen's witch-like laughter. I think I'm in the clear.

"Sabe, it's about time you got your ass back here,"

Of course I'm never in the clear with my dad. "D-daddy, you scared me," Acting was never my forte so I knew that he wouldn't be fooled by my innocent act, not even for one millisecond.

I close my eyes, bracing myself for the worst. I was sure it was coming, he was pretty easy on me the night before but I knew he was just saving the big guns for later, when I really fuck up.

" I don't understand why you're all flinch-y. You're off the hook this time, Sabe. But just you wait, the next stunt you pull I swear to God I won't be in such a generous mood. Just get your ass in bed and make sure it stays there."

So I crawled into my bed, hoping for sleep to overcome me immediately with my dad's threat fresh in my mind.


	11. He likes to take his shirt off

**Sabree's POV**

Two weeks. That's how long it's been since I've seen the Z-Boys. I've been held captive in this cramped shit hole for two weeks, kinda like I'm in prison. Only, prisoners get one phone call and fed daily, and they get to see the light of day at least for an hour. My skin is suffering, I've lost my tan. But these two weeks, I've gotten of almost scotch free. Verbal abuse, mostly. A little hitting here and there. Who am I to complain?

But today, today is day of freedom. Dad and Karen are escaping off to the tropics for a good week and a half. So kind of them to invite me. I have no clue why. Maybe forever summer California isn't cutting it for them anymore. Maybe they'll decide to pack up their bags and leave all this behind. If only. But anyway, the past two weeks the damage done to body is a gold ball sized bruise on my hip, a tiny gash on my lower back and a bump on my head. Luckily, all these bruises are hide able.

In a way, my father and I had bonded with him not beating me. I could smoke a joint without worry. Which, isn't that the whole point of smoking weed?

I yawn, falling back on my springy mattress, listening to the amazing sounds of Jimi Hendrix mesh with every sound in my apartment complex, filling every nook and cranny with melodies.

"Sabree, we're leaving now! Don't do anything stupid while we're gone or you'll get it bad when I get back!" My dad finally roared with his oh so common threat before leaving me alone to converse with the empty apartment.

With my dad gone, a whole new world of possibilities opened up right in front of me. I know I'm over doing it here but ever since I left Tyler's, this kind of freedom was blocked off from me. But what could I possibly do for one full week all by my lonesome? Hm, well that's a stupid question.

I had 5 guys waiting for me. 5 unpredictable, wild, California boys ready to run around town to do whatever they please.

But if I sit here, I'll ruin the whole damn week. Sabree Thomas meet freedom. Freedom meet Sabree Thomas.

.….

The reaction I got from the boys was more than I really expected. They were all so….happy to see me, never mind Stacy and Tyler bombarding me with questions regarding if I was okay or not. I didn't mind them constantly bickering over my safety for once.

"Woah, slow down there. My dad and Karen are in San Diego for the next week and half." I explained. Well, more like beamed.

"So, that means you don't have to worry about taking any beatings?" Sid asked with his usual innocence and curiosity.

I laughed and nodded, "Yes, Sid, this means I don't have to worry about taking any beatings. Although, I have to say I am very proud of my dad. I'm less banged up than I ever expected to be." Those words weren't exactly reassuring enough for the boys after they had finally convinced me to show them what damage my father had managed to do within the short couple weeks I've been with him.

They cringed, scolded me for no apparent reason, everything they always did when I got hurt. Oh, well. Brownie points for worrying, I suppose.

The gaping had grown old and that's when I rolled my shirt back down and pushed the lot away, "Okay! I get it! It's bad. Beating equal bad! You've established that point many, many times!"

It was usually when I used that tone of voice paired with that logic that they all back away from me. All except Stacy but Stacy loves me, I guess.

The whole concept of someone loving me the way Stacy does is still very new to me…everything still hadn't settled yet. I'm not used to the feelings that rush through me whenever I'm around him, I'm not used to the way we can just sit and talk about anything and everything. Stacy's unlocked feelings that I've never in my life felt before.

I should be lucky though, as I said before. So no more complaints on my end. As for today's activities, I really have no clue what we're going to do today. Probably the same old same old. I don't think that much had changed since I was grounded but you really never know with these boys.

…

Well, if that wasn't a fun filled day. Even if it was all routine like I'd expected it to be. We still managed to have a good time. Then again, we probably could have been spent the whole day, starring at a rock and I still would have managed to be entertained. Somehow just being with the group of Z-Boys was enough to keep me laughing for hours. The more I hang around them though, the more I've come to find that I seriously worry about what goes on in their minds.

But enough on that subject. The shock of Jay and I finally making peace finally wore off. Thank God because if they said one more thing about Jayboy and me getting along I would have had to drown them all personally.

Tonight I'm rooming with Jay at his house, having no strong desire to spend the night in my big lonesome, might I even say creepish, apartment all alone. Why was I with Jay? Well, I certainly was not going to stay the night at Tony's house. Not with his stupid bitch of a sister. I never really figured out why Kathy and I don't get along. Frankly, I don't care.

Stacy's parents are back home; I think that's enough of an explanation. I can't stay with Sid because Sid's parents' know Tyler's and I can't be anywhere near Tyler, or his parents for some unknown reason. Something my dad did to make sure that I wouldn't go back there.

But spending time with Jay had become nice. It gives us a chance to get to know each other more. We wasted nearly a year of that so I suppose we have a lot to catch up on. Jay's mom, Philane, is great. I love her.

Deep down, though, I think I'm jealous of the close relationship that Jay has with his mother. Part of me really wants that with my dad and Karen. Maybe if we had a better relationship, I wouldn't get beat and he wouldn't take Karen's word over mine…

I was wrong about Jay, this I was sure of. And he was wrong about me. I mean push aside the fact that he has to be the biggest jackass in the whole entire world (Well, biggest jackass next to Tony, anyway.) he's got a good heart and good, but slightly twisted at the same, morals.

But that doesn't make up for what he did to Stacy if you ask me about it.

I believe his exact words about the Stacy thing were: 'Yeah…Peralta's got a big heart. Too big. I wouldn't have been able to forgive me if I was him, or whatever.'

I agree with him, really I do. Stacy's heart is too big if that's even possible.

Things could have gone on like this for the remainder of the night. I wish things would have gone on like that for the remainder of the night.

I don't even know how this next part happened. I mean, we were just sitting there, innocently talking. The next thing I know Jay is kissing me, and I'm kissing him back. What is wrong with me? Stacy! What about Stacy?! There's a big red light going around in my head, followed by a siren telling me this is the worst possible move I could ever make ever.

Even as all this commotion is being set off in my head, I pay no mind to any of it while I let myself fall back on Jay's mattress, allowing him to crawl on top of me.

Again the question 'What the hell is wrong with you, Sabree!?' pops into my head. _Why are you kissing Jay Adams? You've known the guy for about a week._

As usual, Jay's one step ahead of everyone. He's already shirtless but that's just the way Jay is—he likes to take his shirt off.

As he runs a hand through my hair that's when I realize I am making the biggest mistake ever. Everything came into perspective; I started actually hearing my thoughts. At this exact moment, I've gone further with Jay than I have with Stacy. I jerk away, and throw Jay off me.

"Okay…Jay, I don't know what I'm doing. So I'm just…I'm just gonna go," I stand up, tugging at my jacket. He merely shrugs and sits there.

I don't mean anything to him as a romantic interest—I'm just another girl to kiss to him.

…

I woke up in my apartment the next morning. I barley got any sleep at all. Kissing Jay kept haunting me. How am I going to break this to Stacy? He is the last person to deserve this. I sit up, pushing the covers off of my legs. I never changed last night. The thought of going to bed in pajamas was pushed away from my mind. How I was going to tell Stacy what I did was really the only thing my conscience would focus on.

My mind is everywhere today. I know this because I'm crawling into my black pajama bottoms and lime green tank top to go out with the boys. We're supposed to go surfing today. Whatever, though.

Even if I did get dressed in the appropriate attire I don't think I would be much up for surfing. Before I left the house, I gathered my hair in a messy bun at the top of my head. The skies above threaten a bit of rain. This is really the first cloudy day I've seen in Santa Monica. I stuck my key in my pocket then pulled the door shut behind me, listening for the lock click.

I guess I could play everything off as normal. Again, my acting skills are very less than exceptional so I really don't know how tell that's going to go. I had to try though. Maybe Stacy will force it out of me...maybe he'll see something's wrong before I even get a chance to confess. No! No, damn it Sabree. It'll only be worse if he figures out on his own.

There he is…ugh. This is killing me. I never was good at keeping secrets. I wish I had some way to kill off the guilt welling inside of me. A million and one scenarios are running through my mind right now. The fear of Stacy, literally, exploding on me is a fear I can't quell. I'm thinking to much about this…if I over analyze this he'll know for sure there's something wrong. But what else is there to think of?

He looks over in my direction and greets me with a smile, and drapes his arm over my shoulders when I get close enough to him. He's not surfing today. I return his smile with my own, folding my arms over my chest.

"How come you aren't surfing Stace?" I ask, looking up at him.

He only shrugs at me, "Work. I don't have time to surf then go home and get showered and everything today. I'm taking Marissa's shift today, I need the extra money. Why aren't you surfing?"

_Oh, maybe because I kissed Jay last night and I couldn't sleep at all last night because I feel so guilty about it. _Or _because I'm a slut…ask Jay he'll tell you everything. _Those are two very good reasons. My mouth wants to desperately take the shape of those words. If only I could say it that bluntly. Well, I could. I've done it before; I am a pretty blunt person. If it were Tony, or anyone, I would have said it easy as pie. But Stacy…Stacy's feelings are much more fragile than Tony's or anybodies. Tony uses girls, cheats on them…whatever he needs to do to them to have sex. I don't think the words 'committed relationship' are even in his vocabulary.

I, too, shrug and open my mouth, hoping something ridiculous doesn't come out. "Um, bad dream. Didn't get much sleep." My answer leaves him puzzled but he doesn't push for further explanation.

He just sits there and lets me be very quiet and very unlike me.

"Sabree, what's wrong? You have that look." He asks, taking my hand in his.

"Look? What look?"

"That look that you get when there's something wrong you just don't wanna say what."

Look? Why didn't anybody tell me about this look before?! I chuckle awkwardly and try steering this conversation in a different direction but Stacy doesn't budge. He really wants to know what's wrong with me. I have to tell him. I have to tell him that I'm an unfaithful slut who's not worth his time. Here goes nothing…

"I kissed Jay last night…" My voice is hushed and I feel myself grow smaller and smaller.

"You what?" he scoffs, and his baby blue eyes, usually so warm and loving, penetrate my imaginary shell that I thought was supposed to keep me safe.

"We we're just talking and the next thing I know we're just kissing. It didn't mean anything, Stacy. I swear."

He's hurt. No, he's more than hurt. He's…he's…well I can't even think of a word for it. That's how bad the news is to him.

"Go home, Sabree."

"But, Stacy—" I try to reason with him. I don't blame him…I would react the same way, too. No, my reaction would be ten times worse than his.

"Just go!"


	12. Chapter 12

**Stacy's POV**

And so she did, with her head hung heavy and a broken heart weighing her down more. I felt a rain drop explode on my head and looked up. The sky only threatened rained once in a blue moon. It couldn't have come at a better time. It was like a movie, so cliché and perfect. I admit, I did feel awful about telling her to leave. But god damn it. . .I'm so pissed. How could Sabree do that to me?

How could _Jay _do that to me? For the second time. I'm so stupid. Maybe I shouldn't bother with trying to have a girlfriend anymore. At least Tony kept his shirt on. Jay walks up to me, with a bit of a uncomfortable look on his face. He was coming to tell me, I knew it. He actually tells me when he kissed my girlfriends. At least he's got that going for him.

I huff out, biting down my lip hard enough to have the taste of warm blood in my mouth. I wanted to snap his neck. I wanted to beat the shit out of him. But. . .I can't. Jay's one of my best friends, ever. He's had my back for as long as I can remember now.

He swaggers closer, and closer still. I can't bite back my urge to yell at him. "Dude, what the fuck we're you thinking? Why did you **kiss **Sabree?!" I hardly throw the word 'fuck' around, Jay knew that. He chuckled lightly to himself, tossing his head back.

"Let me guess, I couldn't "handle" her?" I rage on, the urge to hit him growing stronger.

Jay remains silent. I know how he works. He's waiting until I loose my cool completely. Not going to happen.

"Stacy, bro, it was just a kiss. It didn't mean shit. She don't mean shit to me. I was just. . .bored, I guess." Bored? Bored? That's his excuse? Damnit, Jay. Ugh.

"What do you mean you we're bored?! We're you just 'bored' when you stole Kathy away from me too?" That had struck a nerve with Jay.

"Fuck, man. I thought we were pass the whole Kathy thing. That was so **fucking **long ago. Kath's a fuckin hoe anyways, man. You were better off without her. Stacy, dude, I fucking love you bro. If I was gay, I'd _totally_ hit it." He stopped, waiting for my reaction. Although I was disturbed, I did crack a small smile. Jay playfully punched my chest and tried pulling me down to his level by jumping and hooking his arm around my neck.

"You're family to me, bro. I love you, man. We cool, broha?" He again awaited my answer. I look at him, my faint smile growing bigger, and nod. "Good," he jerked my head towards him and smacked his lips against the side of my head, "Now go get your girl, mannn."

**Sabree's POV**

Rain. Of course. How fah-reaking perfect. I've been walking non-stop for about, two hours now? I'm a fuck up. I really am. A clash of roaring thunder and let the rain fall. It was starting out slow at first. I walked a few miles further, and further still until the rain had begun to pour.

I was soaked to the bone and chances were likely I've had a terrible cause of pneumonia in the morning. But still, I didn't care. Right now, all I could hope for is to get terribly sick and die a slow, painful, soup filled death. I'm a s-l-u-t. Slut. Slut, slut, slut slut,slut, slut, sluttttttt. How could I even think to betray Stacy's like that?

I was sober. I was ableto stop it. I should have been able to stop it, before Jay was on top of me half way naked.

"_No wayyy, dude! I knew Tyler's hair wasn't naturally that straight!" Jay doubled over with laughter. _

"_For sure, he straightens it like, every day." I laughed a little myself, a smile plastered onto my face. He was funny, I admit. But I would never think about hooking up with him, much less leaving Stacy for him. Stacy's amazing. And a great kisser. I'm positive Jay's got nothin' on him. There's a silence between us. We both look like idiots, smiling and grinning at each other. Then it happened. His lips met with mine and his body weight had been pressed against mine. The kiss grew deeper, the moment more intense. I felt his hands search for the zipper of my jacket. Then I realized I was making the biggest mistake of my life. Holy shit. I shove him off me and stutter for an excuse. _

The rain had still no signs of letting up. What did I think would happen? That by walking around in Santa Monica in the rain would wash away my sins? I'm close to my apartment. And what do you know? The first thing I see is my dad's car in the drive way.

Why is he come? They've only been gone for two days. They're supposed to be gone two weeks. Oh, shit. I'm in for it now. I ran the rest of the way in, trying to escape the rain. Unfortunately for me, we live on the very top floor of the complex. No way up except the emergency escape ladder, or whatever, but I was way too short to reach. I guess I'll have to take the front.

I took a deep breath of courage as I reached out to open the door. It wasn't locked. But, then again, this is Venice. In this proclaimed 'ghetto by the sea' we, like most, had nothing to take. I turned the knob, listening to the clicking noise.

The apartment, for once, had been clean. But I guess I've been the only one home for a while, so of course it'd be kept clean. "Hello?" I called out, stepping further into the dank apartment. Maybe theres been a mistake? And, they had someone bring their car home because they had somehow gotten enough money for a better one? No one answers.

I take off my jacket and my shirt, now being only dressed in a my sports bra and jeans for earlier. I shut the door behind me, wrapping my arm s around my stomach and wander into my bathroom. Honestly, I wasn't ready to face myself. I bit down on my lower lip, hard. My hair had since been knocked out of its neat, pristine ponytail and random strands stuck out here and there. My make up, was ruined. My cheeks had been stained black from my mascara. Water-proof my ass. My eyes stung from the flow of tears, and they stung horribly whenever I blinked.

For a long time, I stared at myself. I studied every inch of my appearance, as if there was something wrong with me look wise. No, nothing was wrong with my face. It was internal, physical. Then, I realized what a was wrong with me. I was exactly like my father. I'd become him the moment I allowed Jay Adams to kiss me, and fondle me. He isn't exactly father of the year. I hated him , thus I hated myself. More tears came. Tears of hatred, both for myself and the kind of person my dad had morphed me into. I balled my hand up into a fist and slammed it into the mirror.

Cracks broke out and decorated the mirror, the tiny fragments of the mirror came loose, collecting all in the sink. A burning sensation rushed my arm and I held it to my chest. "Ow. . " I muttered, sucking my lower lip. I looked up, glaring at my distorted reflection in the mirror. This is exactly how it started. It had looked so tempting. I just had to try it.

It had been worth it. Damn it, had it been worth it. If for a little bit, I could escape the stress without the worry of going to jail, or going back to a foster home. I shook myself from the first night I'd started cutting, seeing my dad's reflection creep up behind me.

He wasn't drunk. Yet, anways. I saw a bottle clutched in his hands, dark and full of nasty beer. I wish he was drunk. My beatings never seem as bad when he's drunk. He never seems to hit as quiet as hard. Every muscle in my body tingled and tightened when his hand gently brushed against my hip. He kept it there, lowering his mouth to my ear.

He breathed out, "Where were you, baby?" My grip tightened on the bathroom counter. I searched for an excuse, but lying to my dad was never a subject I excelled in. "I just. . .I just wanted to go surfing is all." He smirked, taking a swig of his beer and one step closer to me. My dad knew I hated him. He knew it. So he did it anyway, he did it so he could get me riled up just to knock me down.

"Get away from me!" I shove him away from me, if only for a second before he captured me in the same position as before.

"Sabreeeeee, I know you d-don't mean that honey. I'm your father. I love you. I ju-I just want a little bit of affection." His chin rested on my shoulder, his drunken breath blew onto my neck.

"No, you don't." I jerked myself away from the counter, in hopes of sending my father back and away from me. "You don't love me, you didn't love mom and you didn't love Karlee!" I accused sharply, drawing in semi-controlling breaths. "You love that fucking bottle. You do love that bottle, don't you dad? You let it fucking tear this famly apart. That and that fucking worthless bitch! I'm not your child. I can't be your child." I screamed. His finger nails ripped across the untanned skin of my stomach as he threw me into the wall.

So all the other beatings? All the other times I thought I'd 'crossed the line.' Well. . I was wrong. I really had crossed the line. But I know I deserve this. I deserve every cut, every bruise, every landed kick to the stomach. It's all just pay back for hurting Stacy, the sweetest thing on this earth next to honey.

This day is just full of clichés. The beating didn't stop there. Oh, no. It wasn't even close to being over. My dad was _pissed._ I could tell by the force behind his kicks. I'm sure I could have felt a rib or, like, all of them break with this last kick. 'Guess what, Sabree? No matter how much you hate me, you're always going to hate yourself. Because you _are _my kid, no matter how much you hate it. We have the same blood, Sabe. The same genetics. You're all mine.' He kept on taunting over and over, as he punched me, slapped me.

" You've got a big mouth, kid. Just like you're fucking mother. Well, the next time you decide to talk back to me, think about what your gonna say. I could kill you right now, Sabe. You know it and I know it. Believe me, bitch, that sounds really fuckin' promising right now." He had grown tired of using his hands as weapons. Now he turned to the half way empty bottle in his grasp. I coughed up a little bit a blood and looked up just enough to see my father back up. My head dropped to the ground, I had little strength. Weakly I tried to cover my face. He threw the bottle at the wall full force.

It had shattered, showering me with beer and glass. Then he started with the little glass cups. They, too, shattered, the small pieces cutting my face. The larger shards, though, sliced through the delicate skin of my collar bone, arms and shoulders. I couldn't move. I was bleeding profusely from every part of my body. I could only tell what was going on by my hearing. I heard my dad rustle through the house to find one last weapon to finish his rage. He tosses the cup up and down, cynically. I could hear him chuckle and laugh at his fallen daughter. He was proud of this. He was proud of watching my body, limp and bloody, lie on the bathroom floor.

The last cup, he had angled just right, slamming it against my head. Blood trickled down my face at its own free will. It was disgusting, feeling the warm, red liquid flow down any given part of my body. It wasn't helping at all, only creating black waves and dots in front of my vision.

The extent of the damage to my chest, ribs and lower body could not be seen. It felt like hell down there. "I love you, Sabree." He turned out the light.

My body, was in so much pain. My breath was gaspy and shakey. I couldn't even cry normal tears. I. . .I. . .

**Stacy's POV**

I'd managed to get into Sabree's neighborhood by nine o' clock. I figured there was no use in going after her right away, it'd only make the situation worse. So I stayed and partied with Jay, Tony and everybody. I even had one cup of beer. It wasn't so good. I don't see why anybody would want to drink that stuff night after night. Even when I tried to leave, I had everyone trying to convince me to stay longer.

But, Stacy Peralta was synonymous with caring, I suppose. They just didn't get. . me.

'You care about that girl way more than you should, Peralta.' Maybe Jay was right. Or maybe he was just trying to get me to stay longer, so he try and talk me into smoking weed for the first time. But Jay had an annoying way of being right. But if that night hadn't happened, I still would have gone to Sabree's anyway. Whenever Larry and Mia were asleep, when I didn't have to work I would always come and see her. She was. . .is the best part of my day. No matter what mood I was in, she could always do me one better. She was beautiful. She was, well perfect. And either way, she's a part of my life. And I love that.

Her parents were still away. At least, I hoped he was. His car wasn't around. . .

I stopped for a few moments, just in case fate conspired against me today. I took a minute to gather every ounce of confidence I had in me to stand up to Rick, to be the hero. I wrapped softly at the door with my knuckle. "Sabree? You here?"Although I knew I was partially crazy, I really did expect the door answer back. After all, it did open by itself.

All the lights were off. The weather had been. . .odd today. Rainy, sunny, then rainy again. And the sun had even set early. The only light available to me was the pale moonlight shining through the window, illuminating only the furnishings of the empty apartment. The apartment seemed less welcoming to me now.

The only downside to relying on the moon was that it only lit up certain things within its distance. **Thump. ** I had run into something. "Oh, shit." My hands flew out in front of me to brace my fall. Damn it. Where is she? No sign of her or her parents'.

There was little place to travel in her apartment. Where could she have gone? Jay's? Tony's? I was about ready to give up my search, but the bathroom light, the only light in the house on, caught my attention. I'm officially the bravest guy in the history of forever. Barging into Sabree's house, where her abusive parents could be anywhere, going into every room. And now, I'm walking into the only lit room in the house. Her dad could be in there, for all I know.

My defensive shields threw themselves on. I'm trippin' out, bad. I think I hear Rick's voice coming from the narrow hall? No, no. He would have thrown my ass out if he had been home. Maybe Sabree's in the shower?

I kick the door open with my foot. No way was I prepared for what I saw.


	13. He's my cousin?

**Stacy's POV**

In all honesty, I saw this coming. But my hope was she into hard drugs or she had gone on a cutting spree knife in hand, blood spilling from her wrist. As horrible as that may sound, any of those options would have been better than this. At least she would have fallen from her own stupidity, not her fathers fist. What kind of monster could stand to do that to his own child?

Sabree wasn't a bad kid. She didn't deserve any of that. The worst part is, he _enjoyed_ it. I could tell by the severity of her wounds that he enjoyed watching his child writhe on the floor in pain. This is all my fault. I could have prevented this. I shouldn't have yelled, but walked away instead until I composed myself. She could be dead, all because of me.

Seeing her like this, nearly killed me inside. It brought out an emotion I have never felt. An emotion worse than betrayal. This topped how I felt the day Kath cheated on me with Jay. My face was red with anger, I needed to hit something. Or someone. But I'm Stacy Peralta. I never had it in me to kill a spider, let alone punch somebody. So I took my aggression out on the wall, striking it full force until my knuckles killed.

Sabree. . oh, my god. I said I'd protect you. I still can. . I still have time to be Stacy Peralta, the hero.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you retarded? You could have _killed_ her. Then we would have gone to jail, not only for murder but possession of drugs. I have acid, Rick. Not just pot. But acid. They could get me for that."

Karen's witchy voice carried far. Oh, shit. Where was I gonna go now? The closet? No,that's too far. The shower! That's my only hope. I closed the door to its previous position and crawled my way over to the shower.

"Shut the hell up, Karen. She's fucking fine. She's not going to die. And even if she did, I would just say she got into a car accident or something. I'm clean now, that's the whole reason I got her back."

The voices came closer. I held my breath, peeking out the open space between the shower curtain and the wall. There they were, Karen and her badly dyed hair, Rick with a beer in one hand and a joint hanging out of his mouth. With an angry kick, Sabree's body flipped to her back. He examined her body carefully, gaze focusing on her chest. It rose and fell, slowly. She had had trouble breathing, I could tell.

"See? She's still breathing."

"Fuck you, Rick. Just because she's breathing now doesn't mean she'll be breathing later on in the night." Karen yelled, pushing Rick away. "No one is going to believe that bullshit excuse." _Smack._ Sabree wasn't the only one getting a regular beating around here.

"Shut up, bitch. Or you'll be next."

Karen rubbed her cheek, shooting a lethal glare at her husband. Oh if looks could kill. Karen had nothing to say, watching only as her abusive beau walked away. She followed obediently, like a scared little puppy. I heard the door slam.

I rolled out of the shower, terrified.. I have to get Sabree out of here. I have to contact the authorities and the foster home. And Ty's parents. They'd just love to hear about this. I knelt down beside her, getting a first person account of her injuries. Cuts, everywhere, had decorated her face, shoulders, and arms. She had bruises from head to toe. Her pretty face was even banged up. By far the worst cut of all lay on her forehead. My hand reached out to smooth back her blood stained bangs. It was bad. When I pulled my hand away, her blood stuck to my fingers. I shook my head, fighting back a rising lump in my throat. My arm braced her back while my free arm slipped under her legs.

A small moan that slipped from her mouth let me know she was still alive. But for how much longer? "Don't worry, Sabree. I'll save you."

….

**Tyler's POV**

It was nearly midnight when I had heard a knock at my door. My parents, as usual, we're asleep. Nothing could wake them up. I groaned myself, fighting to pull myself out of my bed.I ran down stairs, skipping steps to save time. This had better be important. I'd never expected to see Stacy on my door step, Sabree cradled to his chest.

"Tyler, you have to help me. Get your parents up," He stopped to catch his breath. His cheeks we're redder than usual. He had ran over fourty five minutes to get her. "Her dad did this to her, Ty. Her _dad._"

God damn it. I told my parents this would happen, they didn't listen. 'Tyler, there's nothing more we can do if he gets the money.' They had said. Bullshit. Look at her now, Mom and Dad. Do you still think theres nothing you could have done? "Put her upstairs, I'll call 9-1-1."

We all sat in the front room, awaiting the arrival of paramedics. My mom had been shaken to tears. I hated seeing my mother cry, so I looked over at Stace. In all my years of knowing these boys, not one of us had dared to cry. He had a distraught look on his still rosy face, he had been crying as well. I felt awful, for I hadn't even thought about crying. My dad and I have always been in control of our emotions.

"Larry," my mother sniffled, drawing a wrinked tissue away from her face "she can't go back there."

"Yeah. Dad, we can't let Sabree go back there. What if he kills her next time?" My rock solid father shook his head, fiddling with his thick framed glasses.

"She's not going back. I'll be damned if I let this harm come to her again." In amidst all the chatter, Stacy had managed to escape upstairs. No one had stopped him, letting him see Sabree was the right thing to do. After all, Sabree had meant more to Stace then anybody.

**Stacy's POV**

I stood in the door way for a second, taking in Sabree's limp body. Anger pulsed through my body. If I ever see Rick again, I swear. . .

How could he not see how she hated him? The hitting, the abuse. He let alcohol tear his family apart. He drove Sabree's mother and sister to leave. He scarred her mentally and physically for life. How can he not hate himself?

_Let me be the one who calls you baby all the time._

_Surely you can take some comfort knowing that your mine._

The wait downstairs, was so excrutiating. I couldn't, and wouldn't, wait for the ambulance to arrive. I needed to be up here with her just in case she woke up. She would be scared. I wouldn't have that. I positioned myself on the bed just right and brushed away tangled hair that fell in her face. My eyes had studied her face carefully as I caressed her face.

_Just hold me tight, stay by my side._

_Let me be the one who calls you baby all the time._

I hadn't expected my touch to wake her up. Her eyes fluttered open weakly. She tried lifting her head but her neck muscles we're still too weak to support her. God, if I could only explain the feeling it had given me to see her eyes open.

She had managed a small smile, her lips taking the form of my name. I shushed her, running a hand through her hair. She was much too weak to talk, she didn't need to waste her energy on my name. "Ssh. You're okay now, Sabe."

_I found my place in the world, _

_Could stare at your face for the rest of my days._

_Now I can breath, turn my insides out and_

_Smother me. Warm and alive I'm all over you_

_Would you smother me?_

Sabree had always been a rebel, though. Her hand reached up to grab mine and moved it to where her heart should be. Her eyes searched mine for the longest time, as if she was scanning her mind for the perfect thing to say. She didn't need to, for this moment took shape of the words longing to be said.

_Let me be the one who never leaves you alone._

_I hold my breath and lose the feeling that I'm on my own._

_Hold me too tight, stay by my side._

_And let me be the one who calls you baby all the time._

"Sabree, this is my fault. I shouldn't have yelled but I promise, I'm never going to leave you alone again. We're not going to let you go back there." I whispered, holding her hand tightly. "Never again." She closed her eyes lightly, she had understood what I was saying.

I gently pulled her head towards mine, kissing her lightly on the forehead, "I hate that I had left all alone. I'm sorry." I'm sure if Sabree had her voice back, she would be cursing at me. 'Stop apologizing, Peralta. It's not your fault my dads a jackass,' she would say.

**Sabree's POV**

What a little bitch. "Stop apologizing, foo'. It ain't your fault my dads an abusive jerk off." God, it had hurt to talk. I looked at his baby face then around the room, and for once I felt at home. I haven't felt this way in a long time. The warmth Stacy's body was emitting made me feel safer than he would ever guess. He said he would protect me, and I could tell by the sincerity in his voice that he had meant it.

"I must look so terrible right now." I laughed meekly. Stacy could only shake his head, stroking the side of my face with his gentle hand.

"No, you look beautiful. You always look beautiful, to me." How disgustingly cute. It made me want to wretch. I liked it though, in fact, I loved it.

_When I'm alone time goes so slow  
I need you here with me  
and how my mistakes have made  
Your heart break  
Still I need you here with me  
So baby, I, baby I'm here._

"Stacy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you the way that I did. That kiss meant nothing. I should have stopped it. And to be honest, Jay is a totally bad kisser. Like seriously, Stace. He's got nothin' on you." He laughed at my comment.

"Seriously, though, Stacy. I'm sorry. Breaking your heart was the last thing I intended to do."

The paramedics had arrived. I could practiclly feel their urgency harsh the aura of the room. Damn them. We were having, like a moment too. Stacy had heard, as well. He moved out of the bed with me right in time. They rushed Tyler's room, pounding me with questions. They were poking and prodding at me, trying to lift me into the streacher.

Ow, ow. Ouch! Fuck, aren't they supposed to be gentle? They weren't making this situation any easier, every contasnt move made my body flinch. As soon as they got me onto the streacher, they ran downstairs. Stacy held my hand all way, until the had to load me into the back of the ambulance.

All I could do is watch as the doors closed behind me, they we're going back to talk to Mia and Larry.

**Tyler's POV.**

"You boys have some good instincts. Some great timing, too. If you had waiting any longer, you might have been too late. Can you explain to me what happened, exactly?"

I hadn't been there. Stacy had stepped though. He had found her, after all. I can imagine he had a pretty good idea what had happened.

"I didn't come until after the damage was done, but there was glass. Lots of it, everywhere. She has cuts everywhere. Her ribs looked brusied, like he had kicked her numerous times."

The paramedic had cut him off, "Who is he?"

"Her father." Stacy and I had retorted at the same time. She looked fazed, but not surprised. "That's a pretty serious accusation, boys. Do you have any proof that her father is the perpatrator?"

"I'm her foster brother. She was taken away from her father when she was at least ten, because he had become a heavy alcohol abuser after he had an affair with some lady at work. She broke up her whole family, that's around the time her father had started beating her. She came to our house about a year ago, but her dad recently won rights to have her back," the woman had nodded, soaking in the details.

"Go on."

"Her first night back he burned her with a joint, three times on her arm. Then him and his wife got into a fist fight. He hit Sabree when she was trying to break it up."

"It's not the first case we've seen like this, I'll tell you. Would you mind? I think I need to have a discussion with your parents."

"They'll just tell you the same thing," I said, rudely. Stacy sent his elbow into my side.

"Can we see her? As soon as she gets put into her room?"

The lady, who now introduced herself as Hollie, nodded, "Of course, but you're parents will have to be with you. I assume you boys are related in some way?"

"Uh, sure. He's my. . .cousin. On my moms side. Stace got her blonde hair, alright." I chuckled weakly.

**Yay updates. :D Enjoy this chapter, kiddies. Brownie points to whoever guesses the song I used. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Saber's POV**

It was so nice to have everyone here. Little moving space had been provided, due to the fact half of Venice was crammed into my hospital abode. Tony had taken the liberty of sprawling himself amongst the chair so no one else could sit but Jay found a way for his own comfort by throwing himself all over the Mexican.

"Shit, Jay. Fuckin' homo." Tony struggled to push Jay away. Jay didn't budge but playfully stroked Tony's chest with his finger.

"But baby, you know how much I love it when we cuddle." Jay loved pretending to be gay. Tony was probably the biggest homophobe in all of California. "C'mon, Tony. You don't have to pretend anymore, everyone here knows about us boo."

"Fuck you, Jay. Get the fuck offa me!" He shouted, shoving his legs into Jayboy's stomach.

"I thought what we had was special! Did last night mean _nothing _to you?" Jay had cried out dramatically, drumming up a few crocodile tears. Jay should consider a career in acting.

Those two were good for a laugh. Stacy had been by my side through the whole thing. We, amazingly, had convinced the nurses to let him stay overnight with me.

"_She doesn't do well on her own; she has a terrible case of separation anxiety"_

"_Well, she is staying in a hospital." The nurse stood firm in her decision._

"_I don't need hospital meds, lady. I need my boy—I mean cousin. He's my medication."_

_She rolled her eyes. Bitch._

"_Please? My dad nearly just killed me. Throw me a fucking bone here. Let him stay, please? I mean, what if my dad comes back? Then what? No one's going to be here to protect me and then I could really be dead." Damn I put up a convincing argument._

"_Security is very tight around here, I assure you. But if you really need him to stay that bad well, just don't say I never helped you out."_

Jay had given up, throwing his charade away. Now Jay, Sid and Tony were all pushing, shoving and pinching each other for adequate room on the small chair. Tyler completed the loving family by stretching himself across the threesome. Oh, lordy how I loved my boys.

Surprisingly enough, Ty's parents hadn't come to visit yet. They we're probably sorting out the legal details with Paula and the lawyer they had recently hired. I hope they get my dad for this. I refuse to go back with him, I absolutely re-fucking-fuse to go back to that shithole.

"Sabree, it's time for your pain killers," the voice of the nurse rang through my room and the faint wheeling of the medicine cart was becoming louder and louder. A tall nurse had walked in, with vibrant black hair cut in a stylish, long layered bob. Her name was Shelley and she was my favorite nurse in this dump. Me and her, we had sort of a black market going. She would smuggle me in my favorite energy drink, which I wasn't supposed to be drinking, and in exchange I would give her a few of my smokes. Shelley was truly bomb. I looked in the tiny paper cup, smiling at the sight of the tiny white pills resting in the bottom. Ah, what memories I had with these little guys. They were great to get high off of, even if pill popping wasn't your thing. To be truthful, swallowing pills had always been a fear of mine. I was always afraid I'd choke on them. But I suppose if swallowing these babies didn't kill me, the overdose would. I'd only overdosed once, though. Yet, despite my irrational fear, pills had become my favorite. My sister and I had popped them at our first and only reunion since Mom split.

I didn't remember much about our meeting but the memory of seeing my beautiful heroine was more than enough for me.

"_I miss you so fucking much Sabree. It's completely different without you." Karlee confessed, blue eyes wide. My sister was beautiful. She didn't look like my mother, me, or my father. Long auburn hair fell down to the small of her back, sapphire blue eyes were always filled with a sparkle that no diamond could match. She had legs that went on for days, so it seemed, perfect for her dancers build. I, on the other hand, had more of an athletic, toned body but Karlee was never one for surfing like myself._

_I had to blink away a few tears, "Yeah. . .how's Mom?"_

_She shook her head, looking solemn. "Not good, babe. Not good at all. She doesn't have a job. We're practically living out of the car, which we might lose soon. She's lost all motivation to do anything. She's fucked up, Sabe. Without Dad, it's like she's got nothing at all." _

_I couldn't handle this. My mom had always been the strongest woman I had ever known and she'd been reduced to nothing because of my asshole father. She must have sensed my discomfort, planting a kiss upon my forehead._

"_It's alright, little sis. We're managing. As soon as I'm old enough, I'm going to get a job and make enough money for mom and me." Karlee promised, taking my hand._

"_But that's too far away," I reached into my pocket, pulling out a plastic zip lock bag full of assorted pills and pain killers. I knew Karlee would be up for it, she was introduced to drugs long before our family's demise, "So let's forget about the future and live for tonight. Who knows when we'll see each other again."_

So I don't remember that night fully. I didn't need to. I was with my sister, that's all the memory I needed. Sadly, I haven't seen her since that night. Letters from her had long since stopped since I was taken to the Jones' residents.

I missed her. A lot. "Alright boys," Shelley began, checking at the clock on the wall, "it's time for Sabree's check up. Get out, the lot of you." Shelley was also British. She had the craziest accent that I was simply in love with. Stace gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, even though I wasn't scared.

His hand ran over my hair, causing me to glance up at his rosy cheeked face. His eyes looked amazing in the sun light, the ocean blue color almost translucent. "So, what do you want? We were all going to go out and chow down."

Oh, how sweet. But the boys and I were on completely different eating schedules. When they were all hungry, it was rare that I ever was and when I was hungry, they were stuffed. It made it quite difficult to satisfy everyone's wants, and the fact that I'm the pickiest eater in all of Venice didn't help in the least.

I knew all too well though that even if I politely declined his offer, he would insist that I needed to eat and regain enough strength to get out of this place. So instead I shrugged, "I unno. You decide. You know what I want more often than I do. Surprise me."

"Your wish is my command," That boy was just _too _kind. Any girl could easily take advantage of that. Kathy sure as hell did. That would be Stacy's downfall, I decided. He bent down to plant a sweet kiss on my lips. But as soon as he parted, I pulled him back for another and then one more.

The keys jingled in his grasp as he walked over to the door, waiting for the boys to say their goodbyes.

Tony muttered something to me in Spanish, I assume it was something along the lines of get well soon, and ruffled my hair. Jay and Sid has essentially told me the same thing, just in an assy-ier way.

When all the boys had left, Shelley had a ridiculous grin plastered all over her face. "How'd you get so lucky? You got all those blokes here that care about you enough to miss out on those waves. And that Stacy. Dayum, I could just eat him up for breakfast. My own mum doesn't even care that much about me, tell you what." She laughed, picking up my gown to examine the wounds on my body.

They said I had a broken rib. I didn't believe it. My side felt fine. I think they're just trying to keep me cooped up in this place so my dad couldn't get to me. I thought I was making good progress. All I seemed to have is a few cuts and brusies.

"So Shelley, when am I going home?" I asked, eagerly. I couldn't wait to get back to Ty's house. She stood silent for a moment, writing many things down in neat cursive, all the i's dotted with little hearts. Very Shelley. More moments passed in silence. "Shelley?" I asked again.

"Well, love, we don't exactly _have _a home for you yet. You see dear, if we send you back to that Tyler kids house, your father will find you quicker than you can imagine." What? I didn't get to go home?

No, no, no. I need to go back to Ty's. I have to. I won't go into another damn foster home. I won't. Shelley and I had gotten to know each other a little too well. Well enough to sense when I needed my alone time.

I threw myself back on the bed, covering my face with my hands. I hated my dad.

And then the last person I expected to see walked into my hospital room, clearing her throat loudly. A slit opened in my fingers to look through. Karen? What was she doing here?

She looked so bashful sitting there, a teddy bear clutched in her long fingers. Her cheek was swollen. Did Dad do that to her? Probably. If he was into beating his kids, what was stopping him from beating his wife? There she stood for moments longer, looking for the right words to say. She began by setting the teddy bear gingerly on my tray, next to my ice water.

"Sabree," she started, "I don't know what to say. I didn't think your father would almost kill you."

Was this her way of trying to kill her guilty conscience? That was my top choice, but I'm almost positive that beneath the skimpy clothes and cheap hair dye there was a kindly woman who just lost her way in life and got caught up in whatever wave came her way.

Again she cleared her throat. "I'm leaving your dad." I gave her a deer caught in the head lights look. Leaving my dad? The words hit hard, almost as if I had literally been blind sighted by an eighteen wheel truck. It was the best news I could have ever heard however, the words made my stomach clench painfully. Uncomfortable silence filled the room. Karen had tried to speak but I silenced her immediately.

"Please just leave." She stood dumbfounded. Yet she had a look of genuine hurt and disappointment slapped on her soft, almost reassuring mother-like face. At first glance, Karen looked like a fucking angel. I was sure she had a son my age but I've heard stories about him being killed in some gang war. A wrong place, wrong time situation, his name was Dylan. He had never had any direct gang connections himself. I also knew she had a daughter who had simply taken off after her word of her brother's death.

No wonder the poor woman had turned into a drug addicted life of gold digging and house wrecking. The whole reason I began smoking pot and drinking alcohol was because my 'stable' family crumbled right beneath me. Maybe we were more alike than I could have guessed.

She swallowed hard and nodded. The door shut softly behind her. I fell back into the hospital bed, sinking into the over fluffed pillow. I need a fucking nap.

…..

Too many hours had passed since the boys had returned, bags of greasy fast food I wasn't allowed to eat clustered in bunches in their hands. They had gone all out, ordering everything off the menu. From hamburgers to milk shakes to chicken sandwiches, they had it all. We scarfed it all down in a matter of minutes. Never has a hamburger tasted to good to me.

Again, the tiny room was filled one side to the other with the Dogtown surfers, waiting to hear the unpleasant news. This is just not a good chapter of my life….I'm damn sick of all this bad luck.

"So. . . " I look around the room, at everyone's face, searching them individually. None of them had a clue. I take a relaxing breath, "There's no possible way for me to go back to Ty's. They said it's too easy for my dad to track me down again." The room was quite. They all looked discontent. Better than heartbroken, I guess. "They don't know where they're sending me next."

The boys were still oddly pretty chill about this news. Upset, sure. Ready to break down into tears? Not a chance. I guess they sensed my need for a huge reaction, they all shrugged in unison.

Had they been upset I wasn't going back to my home? Possibly. They probably figured I wouldn't be moving to another state. The odds of a foster family from Washington or something wanting a grungy street girl from the ghetto were extremely, extremely slim.

"Well, duh Sabree." Tyler grinned a crooked grin. "It doesn't matter where you move, dude, we'll find you somehow." He winked at me. I couldn't help but smile at this. He was right.

"Yeah, chicka, we're family. There's no one out there that can separate us." Tony laughed his trademark laugh that could cheer and charm any girl. . .except me, that is. "But just in case. . ." Tony faces the wall, digging deep in his pockets, pulling out multiple packages of cigarettes, condoms (HA! Tony use condoms? Yeah right. They were probably just in there to make the girl think Tony was a safe guy.) and lighters before he found his desired item: a blunt. Okay, now I seriously forgive the boys for their lack of a reaction. Tony could always score the dankest weed. Always. He handed the blunt off to me along with a green lighter.

I know Stace could care less about me smoking weed in front of him but I still felt a twinge of guilt and awkwardness as I put the blunt between my lips and hit it hard. I know I've done a lot of illegal things back in the day but I'm almost positive that blazing up in a hospital room, of all places, tops the charts at number one. They say weed is the best medicine, though.

It passed around the room, skipping Stace and Ty, three times but I was flying high after my first hit.

Needless to say, I don't remember the rest of the night.


End file.
